02-20-2013

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Healing

The Coral Cave
[Exits: south]
Glittering white sand covers the floor of this room, curling in tiny swirls
across the room as if by some unseen current. The cave appears to have
naturally grown within the center of a massive coral formation, and you are
unable to detect any sign of intentional construction. The coral walls pulse
with life, as sea creatures dart in and out of tiny crevices, and colorful
coral fronds sway to and fro like leaves in the wind. Sunlight gently streams
into the room through cracks in the coral ceiling, bathing everything in an
eerie bluish cast. Some magical force must be at work here, since you appear to
be completely underwater, and yet able to breathe without difficulty. The
only exit is to the south, through a small carved out of the coral wall.
A dark haired, robed woman lays here in a sprawl, comatose.

Someone steps out of the shadows.

Samiyah twitches.

Someone says, 'Samiyah?'.

Someone walks over, kneeling before you, lifting your head gently and placing it in his lap.

Samiyah whimpers softly, but does not awaken.

Seraph whispers: Dear one......

Seraph whispers: please forgive me.

Samiyah's breathing shifts slightly.

Seraph lays your head back on the floor gently.

Samiyah's breathing fades once more into almost nothingness.

Seraph lays his right hand over your eyes. It starts to turn bright red.

Seraph takes your soul from your eyes, forming a ball with it.

Seraph examines it quickly then pulls a black gem fron the air.

Seraph pulls part of his soul from the gem and combines it with Samiyah's blue soul.

Seraph makes a perfect ball with the two souls and places it over your eyes.

Seraph hands turns a reddish blue as the soul enters your body.

Samiyah's heart skips a beat as her spirit, augmented by yours, flows back into her body.

Seraph watches as your body glows, the souls start to heal.

Samiyah whimpers and shifts slightly.

Seraph gently picks up your head, resting it in his lap.

Samiyah exhales, the sound one of pain's release.

Seraph whispers: Wake, Samiyah, I am here.

Samiyah breathes more deeply, her eyelids fluttering.

Samiyah barely whispers, 'Seraph?'

Seraph's wings fold around you.
Seraph whispers: i am here.

Samiyah lays quietly, unmoving, save for a slight nod. '... felt Your wings.'

Seraph says, 'rest Dear one'.

Samiyah whispers, 'You were right.'
Samiyah whispers, 'But I had to try.'

Seraph nods slowly.

Seraph says, 'what did you see? or feel?'.

Samiyah gestures weakly, fingers flicking outward. 'Everything.'

Seraph nods slowly.

Samiyah swallows hard, and forces her eyes open with effort.

Samiyah looks up at you. 'You were ... very bad man. But it ...made you worse.'

Seraph nods slowly.

Samiyah sighs quietly, turning slightly so that her cheek rests against your leg.

Samiyah murmurs, 'Thank you. For coming for me. I was... lost.'

Seraph says, 'i know'.

Samiyah gestures vaguely at her head. 'I was seeing.. and couldn't.. figure out... what was me and what wasn't.'

Seraph says, 'Visions. Just vision'.

Seraph sighs, "You were living my life."

Samiyah nods slightly.

You say (in common), 'not just yours.. others, too...'.

Seraph nods.

Seraph whispers: The Huntsman, Solaron, had it. My lord changed it for me.

Samiyah nods.
You say (in common), 'Saw him.'.

Samiyah gestures weakly at her face. 'Lost veil somewhere.'

Seraph forms a veil then places it over your face.

Samiyah makes a sound of protest.

Seraph says, 'it is your way '.

Samiyah whispers, 'it is.. tradition... but...'
Samiyah whispers, 'no. not with ...' she seems to be searching for the right word, through the fog. She shakes her head again. 'You.'
Samiyah looks up at your face, bare of helm. 'Yours, gone, too.'

Seraph nods.
Seraph says, 'my face has been seen by many'.

Samiyah looks at you, a slight worried frown tugging at her mouth. 'No armor. Before...you were dying. Now?' Her expression asks the question.

Seraph says, 'no not dying'.

Samiyah swallows slowly and nods, eyes sinking closed for a moment in weariness.
Samiyah whispers, 'Want to go home. Face Elders. Tell them - they are wrong.'

Seraph says, 'sleep, dear one, and regain your strength. We will speak after'.

Samiyah nods slightly at your words, and drifts off into sleep.


Unwelcome


Wish bows deeply.

Wish nudges Samiyah with his 1st tentacle.

Samiyah murmurs softly, shifting.

Wish says, 'is Sami all healed up now?'.
Wish says, 'I was most certain she was going to kick it'.

Wish creates a spiral clam shell out of thin air!
Wish closes the clam.
Wish locks the clam.
Wish eats a spiral clam shell.

Wish thunders at the top of his gills, "Samiyah, arouse yourself!"

Wish prods Samiyah a bit more roughly.

Samiyah startles awake, with a gasp, struggling to rise, but unable.

Wish says, 'Samiyah, you have been lounging about in my temple now for nearly a day!'.

Wish utters the words, 'gjwwai'.
Thormalin arrives suddenly.

Thormalin chuckles, evidently amused.

Wish bows before Thormalin.
Thormalin bows before Wish.

Wish bows deeply.

Thormalin laughs.

Wish says, 'I would like to clean up you know, but your nearly lifeless corpse is in the way.'.

Thormalin looks at you.
Thormalin sits down and thinks deeply.

Wish says, 'Please leave.'.

Samiyah attempts to sit up, but is unable to do so. She answers softly, the words a slurred murmur, 'F'give me, Sahib.'

Wish frowns.

Thormalin helps Sami to her feet.

Wish says, 'Still recovering from your ordeal?'.

Samiyah swallows, her eyes blinking closed a moment, then speaks again. 'Will ask friends... to help me out.'

Wish says, 'Friends? What friends do you speak of?'.

Thormalin sits down and thinks deeply.

Wish says, 'or do you mean Seraph'.

Samiyah gestures vaguely. 'Friends...' She tries once more to sit up, her fingers finding no purchase in the sand. At his name, she nods.

Wish says, 'I would have thought Seraph would have healed you by now'.

Samiyah says, 'He.. helped. Woke me. Told me to rest more.'
Samiyah gestures vaguely at her head.

Wish says, 'He told you to "rest"?'.
Wish says, 'that's it?'.
Wish says, 'that was the extent of his efforts to...assist you?'.

Wish prods Samiyah as she tries to doze a bit more.

Samiyah shakes her head slightly, braids tumbling over her face. 'No. Did.. something. Feels..' She taps her chest weakly. 'Different.'

Wish says, 'Stay awake, Samiyah.'.

Samiyah nods, her eyes drifting shut. 'Yes, Sahib.'

Wish says, 'Seraph, is Samiyah your follower or not?'.

Seraph says, 'she will be fine, Wish. she is healing'.

Wish frowns.
Wish says, 'Are you a God or are you not, Seraph? Are you even capable of healing anyone but yourself?'.
Wish says, 'I have patience, Lord Nash knows I do.'.

Samiyah smiles slightly as she hears Seraph's voice, her head turning in that direction.

Seraph says, 'she is healing now, Wish. I have healed her'.

Samiyah's breathing slows once more as she drifts off back to sleep.

Wish prods Samiyah to stay awake.

Samiyah gasps, startled.

Thormalin chuckles, evidently amused.

Wish says, 'I do not see a healed woman in my Temple'.

Thormalin shakes his head.

Seraph says, 'i can take her somewhere else if you like'.

Wish says, 'yes, I would like that'.

Samiyah tries once more to sit up.

Wish says, 'Please, since you apparently are incapable of healing her completely, remove her to another location.'.

Seraph scoops Samiyah up in his arms.
Seraph says, 'it takes time, Wish. Her soul was shattered'.

Samiyah lays her head on Seraph's chest, her eyes closed.

Wish laughs with disgust.

Thormalin chuckles, evidently amused.

Wish says, 'Shattered soul, you say?'.

Seraph nods.

Wish says, 'Souls cannot be shattered, Seraph!'.

Seraph says, 'yes, they can wish'.

Wish says, 'Only ego's can be shattered, Seraph'.

Wish says, 'Souls are immutable!'.

Samiyah slides back into sleep, despite the arguing going on around her.

Seraph says, 'i have been dealing with souls for a long time'.

Wish says, 'Now, please, remove her so that I may have some privacy with my followers in my temple.'.

Seraph leaves south, carrying Samiyah.

The Baths
[Exits: north]
You are in a spacious chamber. Marble benches surround the room, facing in
toward the large bathing pool that fills its center. Steam curls up from its
waters, and you are aware of the warm humidity that fills the air. Water
flows forth from a statue in the center of the pool, keeping it hot
and fresh. A marble archway leads out to the north.
(Invis 71) (Intense Dark Purple Aura) [GS] Seraph is here.


Seraph sits down and holds you in his lap.

Samiyah murmurs slightly, the words unintelligible, and sleeps peacefully.


Awoken: Wish's Perspective


I must admit I felt a little remorseful for kicking Samiyah out of my Coral Cave while she was still recovering from her self-inflicted trauma. Normally, I wouldn’t care where she might decide to die and rot, but it is a new Temple after all, with that new Temple smell. An unwashed desert girl covered in dried blood and vomit can ruin that feeling pretty quickly. Still, I did take (gleeful!) part in bringing her to this low condition, and so I thought I should at least check up on her.

I was pretty sure I knew where she went off to, and tracking her was made all the easier by the trail of body fluids that led directly to the Baths. There she was, poor thing, asleep on one of the benches, wrapped only in a grimy towel . For a moment I was taken by the urge to just drown her in the Baths and be done with it, but then I remembered I was there out of remorse, and so instead I decided to wake her with a prod from one of my tentacles. Looking back, that was probably a mistake.

Slowly, she opened her bloodshot eyes. Sweat beaded her forehead, and she was clearly still unwell. I suppose I should have asked her how she was feeling or provided some friendly comfort, but my curiosity got the better of my remorse, and so other than offer her a lounge chair, I dispensed with such pleasantries.

“Samiyah! Wake up, desert girl.”, I said, as I plopped down into the comfortable chair, my gelatinous body seeping through some of the larger crevices. “I have some questions for you about your ordeal, such as it was.”

She barely was able to rouse herself, and sat only semi-upright on the bench, her head wobbling from side to side and her eyes looking off in different directions. The most she could manage was a nod in my direction and a barely mumbled “Yes, Sahib?”.

“Tell me, Samiyah, what happened when you touched the Similus. I am curious to know.”

Samiyah groaned slightly, and managed to gesture to her head. “You…right about… things,” she mumbled. “Broken. Inside.”

“Broken you say? Did I not warn you, Samiyah, that this little adventure of yours would lead to insanity.” I idly scratched under my 3rd tentacle with my 4th tentacle. Samiyah only nodded and tried to lay back down. I prodded her again, admonishing her to stay awake.

“Seraph…healed me…told me to sleep,” she protested.

“Hah! If Seraph had truly healed you, why would you need to sleep? That is ridiculous. Seraph has no power to heal you, desert girl!”

“My soul…shattered…he fixed it…I felt it,” she said.

“Don’t be ridiculous, souls can’t be shattered, Samiyah. Besides, the Similus is nothing but an object. It has no power other than what you give it.” My tentacles quivered with irritation at her ignorance.

“No, Sahib,” she groaned, “Similus is evil. It has a Soul…I felt it take pleasure…shatter me. He healed me.” Her words were slurred, and occasionally spittle flew from her lips and dripped down her chin, mixing with the sweat.

“Samiyah, the Similus is a material object. It has no soul. Only the living have souls. Are you so ignorant not to understand that?”

“The Arch-Lich, Sahib…He not living…he has a Soul.”

Now, for some reason, whenever I hear mention the Arch-Lich I get hungry . Don’t ask me why, I suppose it is a reflex action from my mortal days as a rabid Conclave killer. So, reaching into my pocket I found a small fish and plopped into my eager, clicking beak for a snack.

“Don’t be silly, desert girl! The Arch-Lich has no Soul!” I said, as I wiped the scales from my beak. “And this is all beside the point. This adventure of yours has been of your own making. Seraph’s shield, his helm…Similus, his mace: these have no power in and of themselves.

“The visions you saw, the things you felt, these were all done by you. It was your imagination, that brought on your visions. Even your physical ailments. All of these were of your own doing. How could they be otherwise, when no one else has been affected by these objects?”

“No, Sahib, I saw...Solaron…Huntsmen…war with Fate. Things I could not have seen.” She seemed to be fading again, her eyes drifting shut in painful reverie. So, using one of my tentacles, I splashed her eyes with warm water and ectoplasm. She sat upright abruptly, sputtering.

"Samiyah, stay awake, and look me in the eyes! It is you who have empowered them with your…your…”

“My belief, Sahib?” she offered. She seemed more alert now, and able to at least complete her sentences without drifting off.

“Yes, your belief in them. Where did you ever…”

“No, Sahib,” she interrupted. “My belief in Him!”

Now this took me by surprise, I must admit. This ignorant girl, from some unknown, backwards desert tribe had just expressed the root, the very essence, of Nashite philosophy: Godly power, existence even, is dependent on Belief. Perhaps I had underestimated this desert girl.

“Samiyah,” I continued hesitantly, “do you understand now about Lord Nash?”

“I have learned much, Sahib. I have read his bible…the Apocry…whatever it is called. And many poems and stories. It is all…phooey.” This came out with barely hidden disgust.

“No, Samiyah, you are wrong. Just as your belief in Seraph awoke him from slumber, just as it empowered his toys, it is our belief in Lord Nash that empowers him.” I was confident in my approach. Overly confident, I would find. Some people are as stubborn as ice, and it would seem I had found a glacier.

“Sahib, the poems of Nash, the songs written about him, are terrible, stupid. Some call him a goat. They are all...’silly’, as you are so fond of saying,” she said, scornfully. “He is...nothing…phooey.” (Apparently in her desert tribal language, “phooey”, was the ultimate insult, like tossing a shoe at someone or something. I let it go.)

“Samiyah, there are good writers of songs and bad writers. If I were to write a song that called Seraph a turtle, would that make it so?”

“He is not a ….houseplant…or a turtle…He is...” she trailed off, not finishing her sentence. Or perhaps I was starting to lose interest and simply failed to hear her.

“Yes, Samiyah, those things he is not. Besides, were I to write such a song it would be an insult to turtles everywhere.” I suppose this was a low blow, but how could I resist? I imagined this insult of her God would sting her to the quick, and arouse her to further protests and verbal battle which, it turns out, was the true reason for my visit.

“My songs of Seraph are glorious. They soar like the desert sparrow! I am the greatest Bard, ever! The poems, the stories of Nash are…phooey! Nash may be powerful, but he is NOT the Creator! Tynian is the Creator!”

I could not help but laugh at this. Mischievously, I replied “The greatest Bard ever, you say? Would you like to place a wager on this, desert girl?” (Inside, I was literally repeating like a mantra “Oh please say yes, please say yes, please please please please say yes.)

She said hesitated…

…and said “No, Sahib, perhaps I misspoke. I am but the greatest writer of Seraph songs.”

My disappointment was palpable. So much fun spoiled with that single retraction. Perhaps I had not underestimated her after all.

“Well, I know of no other composer of Seraph songs, so perhaps you may claim that title. So you admit then, at least, that Lord Nash exists. I suppose this shall have to be enough.. for now.” I said, feeling as if I had won the day.

“No, Sahib,” said Samiyah, “Tynian can be felt, seen, heard. My God, He can be felt, seen, heard. Lord Nash is a fantasy. He is nowhere to be felt, nowhere to be seen. He is not even desert wind.”

I was taken aback by her confidence. Had we not already agreed that it was belief itself that empowered the Gods? Did she not see that Lord Nash, whom more mortals had believed in, written more stories about, and sung more songs about than any other God, was more powerful than all of the other Gods combined? Her stubbornness and rejection of her own arguments was infuriating. I attempted to recover with an analogy.

“Samiyah, can the fish feel the water?” I asked, intending to answer my own rhetorical question.

“Of course it can, Sahib. I have seen them react to the currents. And now you will say that Lord Nash is the water. Phooey! My God, who I can see, who I can hear, has commanded me to sleep, to heal. Let me alone now, Sahib.” And with that she closed her eyes and fell deeply asleep, not even waiting for my reply.

I was at a total loss of words, and I squithered* out of the Baths in a daze. Had I truly been bested by this simple tribal waif, whose entire experience of the world had been, until just the day before, from behind a beaded veil? I had to admit I had. Thinking back on the previous days, I understood, despite her outward appearance and her primitive demeanor, that she had undergone her own Alchemical transformation. The silly desert girl had now become a formidable woman.

As I retreated to my Cave, a sly smile crossed my face with this new understanding. Yes, I thought, she is no longer a silly desert girl. I have applied my own Alchemy code and helped manifest her Change. And yet more applications of the Code shall come, I thought.

I chuckled to myself.

After all, the practice of Alchemy has consequences, do they not? Let us see if Samiyah can live with hers…

To be continued….


  • Completely made up new word just now. Fucking genius!! Hah!!





Awoken: Sami's Perspective


I was awoken from dreams of places I have never been and people I have never fought, to the presence of Wish, the god of the Nashites. At first, I thought it still part of the dreams that had held me so strongly, but no. He was glaring at me, as if he had been waiting for a response for some time, and my leg hurt, as if he had jabbed it. My eyes burned, as if twin coals had been pressed into them and my whole body screamed in protest. Sounds were coming out of his mouth, but for a long moment, I could not understand him. Blinking, I concentrated, as if trying to memorize a piece of music, and was able to understand, at least a little better.

Wish demanded to know what I had experienced when I touched Similus. I had to acknowledge that he and others had been right, that it had broken something inside me, but that Seraph had helped to heal it. He asked again -- what had I seen? and then argued with me when I tried to describe it. I know that I was not communicating well - my head swam with visions and sleep pulled at me like the current of a river, always seeking to pull me into its oblivion - but he kept asking, over and over, it seemed. Why did I think the visions came from Similus? Why did I not realize that it was just my own imagination, just as Seraph's healing had been? I tried to explain the sense of Similus as a living thing, that I had seen things that I did not know of. I described Solaron and his battles and the conflict he had with ones who were once brothers and sisters. I told him of Seraph and all the bloodshed I had seen him do. All of this I knew - because of what Similus had showed me. And I told him he was wrong: Seraph had saved my life.

Anyone could tell the tale that Seraph was a killer, he said - it was too well known. Sorrow touched my heart, but I knew his words to be true. Yet, I countered, the same could be said of any Ordained - and that three such, Belgarion, Sagan, and my own brother, Cresom, had acknowledged it. Dark deeds, but for a purpose, to help and protect and defend - this is the task of an Ordained - but that for those who bore Similus, it was much worse. That it was an evil thing that prompted more evil from those that wielded it. Honestly, I do not know how much of this I actually was able to say - words seem to stick to my tongue, coming out only in a mumble. My head throbbed with each word, waves of pain flowing in and out like sand pushed by the winds. Seraph had saved my life, yet again holding my soul in His hands to keep it from the spirit lands, but I knew I was a long way from being well.

Wish told me I was a silly desert girl, that objects - things that are not Living - do not have souls. Thinking of something that I saw in the Manor while I was on my quest, I defiantly countered with the name of the Arch-Lich. He laughed in his odd way, and demanded to know: What gave me the idea that the Arch-Lich had a soul? I could not give an answer, so I merely shrugged and tried to go back to the sleep I so achingly needed, horrible visions of what I had seen depicted so graphically in the Manor already taking hold.

A splash of slimy, filthy water in my face shocked me awake once more. He said my name sharply and commanded that I stay awake and look at him. The twin tides swirling within me - the need to obey and my own body's weakness - made me dizzy. I wanted to scream at him and beg him to leave me alone, but bit my lip and stayed silent, focusing on his words. He turned his questions to what I had seen on my quest: What had I learned of Nash?

I confess it: I was afraid. How was it that he did not know of my past conflicts and terrors with Nashites? That this fear had been my constant companion, clinging to me as closely as my own shadow, while I walked through the Manor? I have seen my own death at their hands and sung of it before their Pope. Three times, I was called to that Tower, and three times, I saw visions of my own blood spilling onto that floor. I heard Seraph's voice, as if he stood beside me: Show no weakness. I sought to hide my fear with bravado, deliberately impolite, using a word that I had seen a boy in Midgaard be beaten by his mother for using. "Nash is phooey!" Wish seemed taken aback, so I tried to press the point. Nash was the silliest of tales - a badly written mockery that would get any bard booed off the stage, if they wrote about Immortals being so childish as to go about peeing on people! He countered that not all bards are equal and perhaps the bards that had written of Nash spoke only from a mortal perspective, writing of something they could not fully comprehend. But if I should believe the songs of Nash, I said, what of the songs written of him being a goat, too. Were they just as true? His tone mocking, he said he or another could write ridicule of Seraph, painting him as a turtle. Pride and anger turned my tongue at that moment, and I boasted that my writing of the Sahib was better than any other, certainly better than anything such as was written about Nash. Almost like a sand-cat on an unwary lizard, Wish pounced on my words. Would I care to wager? The warning thrum of danger made my heart pound, and again I heard Seraph's voice as if He knelt beside me, whispering in my ear. 'Be careful, my dear one. Choose wisely.' I was too exhausted to do aught but shake my head, no, and confess my arrogance.

My head swam in a fog as Wish continued to press me with questions, like a swarm of bees stinging from all sides. How could I have faith and belief in Seraph, and yet not acknowledge the faith and belief others held in Nash? My stumbling reply was that I could see, feel, hear, and touch Seraph, or Tynian, the true Creator... Yet none of these things were possible with Nash.. and that for one's belief to bolster an Immortal, the being had to actually exist. I said again: I did not believe in Nash, but I believed in Seraph. He taunted my faith, saying that Seraph had not healed me - that I had healed myself. That Seraph had no power, was utterly weak and helpless. I became angry, hearing Belgarion's words yet again, repeated in another's voice, and dragged myself upright, though the room swam before my burning eyes and my insides felt like quicksand. I said that Seraph had saved me. That I felt a change within myself, felt His presence, as if His wings were around me. Knew that my renewal and healing was His doing.

Wish laughed and called me a foolish desert girl - had I witnessed its doing? I am a silly girl and I was not awake when it was done, so I could not, in truth, argue with that, only said again that I felt it and knew it to be so. Again and again, like a whirlpool, he circled around the topic of Nash, until my head was dizzy with it. I must confess, he is a very good orator and would have made a fine bard, for he twisted the tale so much that I nearly found myself agreeing with him, purely for the passion of his argument, and not for any truth to the matter.

Finally, he asked if a fish can feel the water. Of course it can, I replied; does it not change course in response to the current? Tired of all of these questions and so desperate for sleep, I snapped back rudely - wrong of me, I know - I supposed, I said, that he would next tell me that Nash was the water. No, he replied, Nash is the ocean. A phooey ocean of pee, which you willingly swim in! I thought, but wisely held my tongue. He was getting irritated and angry with my stubbornness, or perhaps my inability to speak properly, for at long last, he bade me sleep, then called me back from its brink with two questions: What did I think would happen if Seraph's shield, helm, and weapon were destroyed? Not knowing the answer, I gave that as my reply. What, then, if Similus was destroyed? Again, I did not know, but said that I did not think it could be. I could hear his evil snickering as I slid into the embrace of sleep, and it troubled my dreams, wondering what he might be plotting.