ꙮ The Liminal Library. Outside, it’s fairly early in the morning (and you’re getting used to what ‘morning’ and ‘evening’ look and feel like here without the Centrelight’s waning and waxing, pretty quickly.) Once you’ve put your hand on the tablet, though, the interior of the Library always feels weirdly timeless - the light of the sun, shining from the centre skylight, always as bright and gently comforting.
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- Aurelius
- The Awoken
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#wolf
steps into the Library–clothed, briefly at least, in his long red yeresh coat. The blue coat is beautiful and lovely, but for what he’s planning, he wants comfort, familiarity–a particular kind of armor. He steps into the center of the room before closing his eyes and turning his face up towards the sun, basking in it for a long moment.
ꙮ It is a warmth unlike anything you ever experienced - like the comfort of a campfire on a cold day, like a morning’s first rays of Centrelight, and something more than either of them.
eventually takes a deep breath, shakes his head in a distinctly dog-like fashion, then gracefully drops to his knees to sit seiza-style, palms flat on his thighs, spine upright. He closes his eyes again, and this time breathes slowly and deliberately. Ten inhales and ten exhales, long and slow, silently counting the inhales in his head. Another ten, silently counting the exhales. Ten, focusing on the rise and fall of his belly as he breathes. Ten, his focus now solely on the movement of air past his nostrils and his upper lip. He could well be a statue, save for the rise and fall of his stomach and chest, the nearly inaudible sound of his breathing. ⁂
inhales again, and this time his lips move, softly, almost silently. A prayer of some kind, or a chant, so quietly that even someone sitting next to him would catch nothing but the occasional sibilant. It doesn’t take long. His lips stop moving. His eyes open, slowly–their green-gold dark and focused. There is a heaviness about him, a solidity, even as he rises–his knee pops but his face doesn’t even twitch. Centered. His footsteps are silent despite his boots, as he crosses the Library and comes to a halt in front of a small switch with a large sign with large, bold letters on it. ⁂
takes a breath. Another. In spite of himself, his breath quickens. Then, with one smooth motion, he reaches up and flips the switch. 🙧
ꙮ Please give me a gnosis check. Whatever your approach would be to resist intense stress or strain in this moment.
- The Wolf-Priest invoked their 🟢flourishing gnosis [d6] -> 5.
ꙮ Something in your perception flickers when you hit the switch; somehow, for a split second, the central pane was unobserved and in that moment, it -changed-, and- the Sun it looks out to now is SCOURING, it is harsh, bright beyond belief. There is no surface within the Library that is not eye-blindingly bright. You are profoundly alone, in this moment. Your perception sharpens to a knife-point: all of this happens in the barest blink of an eye that feels, to you, like much, much longer. ⁂
ꙮ Someone is screaming, but you’re confident it isn’t you. Moreover: you have felt this harsh light before, once, in a dream that became a nightmare. You have a moment of clarity which is your own. What do you do?
snarls something between a gasp and a curse and slaps the switch again.
ꙮ A wise choice, after a bold choice. Your perception flickers again; the kinder, gentler sun returns to the central pane and it feels, for all the world, like it wishes to reach out to you, to comfort you. [Wolf loses all Stress that had been previously applied.] Which, in this case, was none at all, but it’s the spirit of the thing.
takes a deep breath, lets it out as a ragged exhale. Swallows hard. Breathes again–breathes until his breathing slows and his heart rate follows it. He straightens his spine, which has sagged a little, and–unnecessarily–tugs his coat straight again. Looks at the switch, for a long moment. Then he closes his eyes, and, once again, ten inhales, ten exhales. ⁂
opens his eyes as the last of the tenth exhale leaves him. Sets his jaw. Plants his feet. Finds that place within him that listens and opens his ears to hear…and hits the switch.
ꙮ Once again. But this time you’re prepared for it. [Take Half] The screaming, again, The other light could never harm you; this light could do naught but harm. You have a moment of clarity which is your own. What do you do?
braces, his body and his soul, and listens, listens with all his might. What are you? He cries, inside himself. Why do you howl? Tell me! Tell me!
ꙮ Radiant or Tenebrous gnosis, please. Your choice. By what principles are you driven?
bows his head against the scream–he cannot help it. But in his mind…flickers, and flashes, within the pain, within the light, within the howling horror. Light on a golden scale. Twin rubies, orbiting within a palm. He grits his teeth. His legs threaten to buckle, but he wills himself to stand.
Radiant gnosis incoming.
- The Wolf-Priest invoked their ⚪radiant gnosis [d4] -> 1.
- The Wolf-Priest has gained 1 Arete, and now has 1.
ꙮ You cannot understand -why- the sun is howling, but you hear -profound, undying rage- within it. Your invocation of gnosis interacts - feebly, but noticeably - with the scouring light. It melts before the scouring, though, almost in an instant. [Stress 7.5]
snarls, baring fangs as one knee buckles in spite of himself, the pain of impact swamped by the scouring light. His hand hovers over the switch–but though it trembles, it does not come down. Not yet. “Why?” he gasps, the word instantly swallowed by screaming. “Why do you hate?”
ꙮ Radiant, or Tenebrous, gnosis?
- The Wolf-Priest invoked their ⚪radiant gnosis [d4] -> 2.
- The Wolf-Priest has gained 1 Arete, and now has 2.
ꙮ You cannot understand -why- the sun scours as it does. It cannot hear you; if it could, one imagines it would not be inclined to answer. There is, however, pain, echoing within its scream. Your invocation of gnosis lasts a moment longer, this time- but still melts in the unabating light. [Stress 3.75] What do you do?
his second knee hits the floor and his hand hits the switch at the same time, will giving out slightly before his body does.
ꙮ Awareness flickers, and the gentle, kind sun returns. Brighter, now, or maybe it’s your imagination. You feel… like it is giving you strength. Encouraging you to continue, no matter what. [Wolf loses all Stress that had been previously applied.]
presses his forehead against the stone of the Library wall and pants. Sweat is beaded all over his skin. Fingernails dug in against the stone. A bit of spit on his chin. He’s whimpering, every third exhale or so, and he knows it. ⁂
slumps to sit against the wall, head hanging, knees drawn up, arms draped limply across his knees. It takes a long time for his breathing to slow. There’s no yeresh art to it, this time, just the body slowly unwinding from terrible stress and pain. He looks across at the door. He could get up. He could leave. Nothing to be learned today. ⁂
turns his eyes up to the sun–the kind one, the one that loves him. He closes his eyes. His breathing evens. His face softens. He thinks of– ⁂
–a man alone in a great white hall. Beastlike, but not in any way he recognizes; horned, scaled in gold. Kneeling. Weeping– ⁂
pushes himself up to his knees, bracing against the wall. ⁂
Cast out fear. Cast out despair, he’d said. ⁂
gets one foot under him. Then the other. ⁂
Hold fast, he’d said. ⁂
gets to his feet. His face, sweat-streaked, and utterly serene. ⁂
puts his back to the wall. Turns his face and eyes to the sun. ⁂
: “I’ve been the hunter, I’ve been the hunted,” he says, in a language that no being living speaks, and hits the switch.
ꙮ Awareness flickers. The Burning Sun scours. Constellations twinkle around it in their glass panes. You again hear screaming, where worldsong would be. What do you do? [Stress 0/15]
: “The forest knew me, and I knew the forest,” he sings, and he presses his back to the stone and knows he will not fall, because he cannot fall. Not yet. Not yet.
ꙮ Radiant or Tenebrous gnosis!
- The Wolf-Priest invoked their 🔴burning gnosis [d8] -> 7.
- The Wolf-Priest spent 1 Arete and now has 1 remaining.
- The Wolf-Priest invoked their 🔴burning gnosis [d8] -> 1.
- The Wolf-Priest has gained 1 Arete, and now has 2.
ꙮ Gnosis flares, neither radiant nor tenebrous! The light of the Sun -catches-, in Wolf’s eyes, and he stands defiant, and in that passion the light of the Sun echoes, oddly, for a moment! [Stress 7.5] [Stress: 7.5/15]
trembles, but he does not note it; burns, but in that moment he is burning too–and he opens his heart, and his ears, and his self, to that howling sun, and turns his face to it, for he is beyond fear now. “My heart beats, and beats, and beats, and does not cease,” he sings.
ꙮ Gnosis, corresponding to your approach!
- The Wolf-Priest invoked their 🔴burning gnosis [d8] -> 1.
- The Wolf-Priest has gained 2 Arete, and now has 4.
ꙮ The Sun scours down on you, and you burn back towards it, and there is a passion there, and a determination, a tenacity. It is screaming. It is screaming, and it has not stopped either. [Stress 3.75] [Stress: 11.25] ⁂
ꙮ Wolf maintains his stance, burning to match the Sun’s scorching light. [Stress 1.875] [Stress 13.125] ⁂
ꙮ Wolf does not give up. [Stress 0.9375] [Stress: 14.0625/15] ⁂
ꙮ You -know- that, under normal circumstances, you would have fled the Library, or slammed your hand on the switch. Possibly both one, and then the other. Honestly under normal circumstances, you’d be passed out on the floor, right now, and then who knows what would happen.
And under normal circumstances, I would be compelled to intervene. But I am very curious to see what happens next.
ꙮ The Sun beats down on you, and it does not cease, either. What do you do?
looks up at the sun, and knows, despite his determination, his belief, his strength is almost spent. And yet, he gazes up at it, serene and sad and determined and alight all in one. “Please,” he says, in his own voice. “There is a star, waiting for me. A promise to be kept. To help him…I must know you. So please…help me understand you.”
ꙮ There is a moment, and it could have been a heartbeat, or a day - Wolf’s Stress climbing, half by half, a thread that frays and thins but does not snap. It’s impossible to tell. [Stress 0.0000000000001] ⁂ Gnosis, corresponding to your approach! You are Starlit by the Beating Heart, which does not cease, even were the world to melt around it like wax.
- The Wolf-Priest invoked their ⭐Starlit 🔴burning gnosis [d8: (2, 3)] -> 3.
ꙮ Success. [DC has been significantly lowered by prior action.] ⁂
ꙮ The Sun cannot hear you. No matter how you plead, and what you say, it cannot see you, it cannot hear you. ⁂
ꙮ And yet - as you are caught in an eternal moment, you know that the Sun, too, is caught in an eternal moment. Unmade, incomplete. Waiting. There is work that must be done. And there is the echo-promise-portent-omen-palimpsest of untold, unimaginable suffering, in the past-present-future, a Now that is everywhere and everywhen and everpresent, a Work that must continue. And, at the very core of it, from which issue forth the screams, a singular injustice that was done, or will be done, or is being done. ⁂
ꙮ Briefly, briefly, Wolf’s mind opens itself to something that cannot be comprehended in its entirety; it is too big to hold. But at the end of it, were the Work to be done, there is a peace and a joy that is true- and then the scope of it slips out of his mind. 🙧
hits the switch with the last of his strength.
ꙮ The kind, gentle sun floods back, and it is a relief beyond words.
collapses to the floor with a thud, and kind of bounces off the wall on the way down–thankfully not off the switch–and sprawls on his back. For a moment, he just lays there, staring up at the kind sun, barely even breathing. ⁂
begins, slowly…to laugh. Quiet, almost gasping laughs, at first, halfway to sobs…and then stronger, and louder, steadily. Soon he’s laughing with his whole body, sprawled there on the floor, in a heady mix of receding pain and joyful triumph. ⁂
The laughter fades soon enough, but he lays there for a long moment, eyes closed, hands clutched to his heart, beaming like an idiot. “Hold fast,” he says, to a faraway star he knows very well cannot hear him, laughter still in his voice. “I’m coming.” 🙧