"Wake up! Oh, gods, Kitten, WAKE UP!"
Selah repeatedly shook Ginal, desperately hoping to see her eyes flutter open in response. She only lie still on the stone bridge, breathing slow and shallow, and not stirring.
"Come on, Ginal! Answer me!"
No, no, no, no, no! Oh, gods, no! What do I do? She won't wake up!
Her palm struck Ginal's cheek, hoping against reason the smack would jar her awake. Then again, and again even harder, until both palm and cheek were throbbing.
Wait! I'm such am idiot! This is what always wakes her!
Selah threw her lips onto her beloved's with a heated mixture of passion and despair. One hand found Ginal's breast to fondle, the other rubbing between her legs.
Come on, this is practically what you live for! Open your eyes and jump my bones!
No sounds, open eyes or signs of arousal came from Ginal. Only silence and shallow breaths.
Fear, fury, anxiety, guilt. Selah's heart was overflowing with these. She pulled at her own hair while anxiously pacing, heart thundering in her chest. Glancing up to see the Sanctum's archway, decorated with all the gods' symbols, she screamed her frustrations at the top of her lungs.
"Is this what you want?! To torment and abandon us? I TRIED to believe and be faithful, and so did Ginal, but you've done nothing but shit on us our entire lives! Fuck, I hope you all choke on your heavenly wines!"
She returned to Ginal's side, frantically searching for a pulse and petting her hair.
"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for every damn thing! I'm sorry I got wrapped up in my old fears, and that I left you behind. I'm sorry I didn't come right back and how I never dealt with this part of myself long ago. My Ginal, my beautiful Kitten, I'm so sorry!"
Pick her up, you idiot, and carry her inside. There must be someone here to watch over everything, and they can help. Fight through the exhaustion.
And exhausted Selah was. Every inch of her body was sore, aching and tender. She was covered in sweat, dirt, and blood. Not to mention the complete emotional drain of seeing how far this entire damn situation had gone. The moss-tinted stone bridge, resting peacefully over the lake below seemed a particularly inviting place to lie down, and let herself die with her beloved. Just fall asleep, into a sweet oblivion from which this world can't wake them from.
Stop panicking and sulking, and get on your feet. Get your shit together. She's not dead yet, and neither are you.
The voice in the back of her mind was the last functioning part of normally serene nature, and Selah knew it was the right part of herself to cling to. Slowly, steadily, through the burning pain her muscles insisted she surrender to, she rose to her feet. Grunting with strained effort, she scooped Ginal into her arms and headed for the cathedral's grand doorway.
Her steps were slow, heavy, and unsteady. Ginal may be shorter, and more compact of frame, but her body mass was denser than looks would have you believe. The miqo'te was rarely inactive, and had developed a strength and density of muscle that you could only barely see.
I'd suggest losing weight, but if she were any thinner I'd see her ribs.
Setting Ginal aside, the hyur pounded her fist against the doors. "Someone, please answer! I need help!"
When no answers came, she tried to force the massive doors open. They wouldn't budge, no matter how hard Selah pushed. She pushed and strained against the barrier until her arms screamed in pain for her to stop. Her frustrations again mounting, she resumed beating on the doorway, and soon found herself assaulting it with a flurry of kicks and punches.
"Open the fucking doors! Ginal needs help!" she screamed.
Burnished Snow, the small and thin roegadyn healer, sat within the personal chamber of his clinic. Fading sunlight and dancing candlelight filled the room as he flipped through journals filled with mathematical calculations, alchemical formulas, and various scribbles of pieces of technology and metal joining onto body parts. He sipped at mug of tea that had long-since gone cold, only half mindful of the tea's flavor or temperature.
"What was it? How did I figure this out before? These equations don't make sense anymore!"
He rubbed at his temples, and could feel the exhaustion in his bloodshot eyes.
"Gods, damn. What am I supposed to do with that metal monstrosity out there? I don't remember!"
Slamming his fists on the desk in frustration, he threw the journal across the room. He turned to the loose papers scattered across the desk and madly swept them away.
"I'm a chemist and arcanist, not some Ironworks engineer! How did I get this nonsense into my head, anyway? I can't do this!"
A current of wind ripped through the chamber as swirls of light manifested and swirled about each other. Book were ripped from their shelf and his bed linens were tossed about as the wind intensified. The light gathered into a single mass and stretched up and outward, forming arms and legs. At last, the Amalj'aa Warrior stood before Snow, the plates of his perfectly polished armor gleaming in the candlelight.
"Burnished Snow..." The Warrior growled. "You are having trouble with your formulas? No matter! They were always false knowledge. This is not the way Geoffrey will be joined to his new body."
Snow shrank away from the menacing beastman, trembling in fear at the imposing visage. "I...how did you-oh, Gods, please spare me! I'm only a healer!"
The Warrior chortled as he hefted the healer to his feet with one hand, and locked his gaze with Snow's. The shining silver glow in The Warrior's eyes intensified, and Snow's own eyes began to radiate with a brilliant purple glow.
"Come, healer, we still have some use of you."
"Yes, masters."
Burnished Snow and The Warrior strolled into Geoffrey's room, and the nobleman quickly pushed himself up at the sound of The Warrior's heavy footfall.
"Who's there? Snow?"
"Geoffrey Darkmoore." The Warrior's voice commanded. "This world of fools and dullards, the unenlightened and the weak, was never good enough for you. Long have you suffered, when by rights this world should be YOURS to command and shape as you see fit."
A scowl shaped on Geoffrey's lips as he lie back. "Yes."
"We can give you the power to take back all that has been stolen from you. To have your vengeance and your dominance."
The Warrior approached Geoffrey, resting his massive palm on the nobleman's cheek. "We can even give you the power to finally break her."
"Selah..."
"All you must do is serve us as our champion."
The nobleman's scowl turned up in a vicious grin a he set his dead and bandaged eyes upon The Warrior. "If you truly have this power, I would call it a fair trade."
Burnished Snow, the small and thin roegadyn healer, sat within the personal chamber of his clinic. Fading sunlight and dancing candlelight filled the room as he flipped through journals filled with mathematical calculations, alchemical formulas, and various scribbles of pieces of technology and metal joining onto body parts. He sipped at mug of tea that had long-since gone cold, only half mindful of the tea's flavor or temperature.
"What was it? How did I figure this out before? These equations don't make sense anymore!"
He rubbed at his temples, and could feel the exhaustion in his bloodshot eyes.
"Gods, damn. What am I supposed to do with that metal monstrosity out there? I don't remember!"
Slamming his fists on the desk in frustration, he threw the journal across the room. He turned to the loose papers scattered across the desk and madly swept them away.
"I'm a chemist and arcanist, not some Ironworks engineer! How did I get this nonsense into my head, anyway? I can't do this!"
A current of wind ripped through the chamber as swirls of light manifested and swirled about each other. Book were ripped from their shelf and his bed linens were tossed about as the wind intensified. The light gathered into a single mass and stretched up and outward, forming arms and legs. At last, the Amalj'aa Warrior stood before Snow, the plates of his perfectly polished armor gleaming in the candlelight.
"Burnished Snow..." The Warrior growled. "You are having trouble with your formulas? No matter! They were always false knowledge. This is not the way Geoffrey will be joined to his new body."
Snow shrank away from the menacing beastman, trembling in fear at the imposing visage. "I...how did you-oh, Gods, please spare me! I'm only a healer!"
The Warrior chortled as he hefted the healer to his feet with one hand, and locked his gaze with Snow's. The shining silver glow in The Warrior's eyes intensified, and Snow's own eyes began to radiate with a brilliant purple glow.
"Come, healer, we still have some use of you."
"Yes, masters."
Burnished Snow and The Warrior strolled into Geoffrey's room, and the nobleman quickly pushed himself up at the sound of The Warrior's heavy footfall.
"Who's there? Snow?"
"Geoffrey Darkmoore." The Warrior's voice commanded. "This world of fools and dullards, the unenlightened and the weak, was never good enough for you. Long have you suffered, when by rights this world should be YOURS to command and shape as you see fit."
A scowl shaped on Geoffrey's lips as he lie back. "Yes."
"We can give you the power to take back all that has been stolen from you. To have your vengeance and your dominance."
The Warrior approached Geoffrey, resting his massive palm on the nobleman's cheek. "We can even give you the power to finally break her."
"Selah..."
"All you must do is serve us as our champion."
The nobleman's scowl turned up in a vicious grin a he set his dead and bandaged eyes upon The Warrior. "If you truly have this power, I would call it a fair trade."
Her demand was met, and the towering doors slowly creaked open. A middle-aged man, hyur, whose temples and mustache had long since grayed, met them. His gray, hooded robe, simple of stitch and cut, marked him as priest of the spartan life.
"This is a sacred place, young lady." he sternly remarked. "Watch your mouth, or begone."
"Please, help me! My beloved is hurt and won't wake up!"
The Priest took Ginal into his arms and gingerly headed into the grand Sanctum. His weary gaze drifted back and forth from Ginal to Selah, obviously trying to reason out their wounds, bruises and torn clothing.
"There, ah, was a fight." she stammered. "It was...that Emerald Demon."
How do I explain this? And would he still offer his aid if he knew it was Ginal Gridania was hunting?
"I see." The Priest answered.
Oh... By the gods, this place is amazing.
Selah's jaw hung agape as she stood dumbstruck. The interior of the Sanctum of the Twelve was far and beyond anything she had ever imagined.
The antechamber was sprawling, wide open, and lit so brightly that it almost hurt to keep her eyes open. A carpeted aisle ran ahead, through another towering doorway and into the chapel proper. The stone-paved walkway stretched off to the left and right of them, ending in gazebos overlooking the massive man-made lakes and waterfalls that flanked the chapel, and stairs that descended into the waters. The water itself looked more like liquid crystal, such was its clarity and shimmer, all while lily pads and lanterns floated atop, and grand chandeliers hung with lights and flowers from the mile-high ceiling.
It was art made physical, in both design and purpose, and Selah felt utterly humbled to walk these halls.
"Ginal...Ginal, look at this place! You have to wake up and see it! This is exactly where you always wanted to be bonded!" Tears again crept upon her as she plead to her lover, stroking her hair as they walked.
"Worry not, young lady." The Priest offered. "I'm trained in conjury. I'll do what I can to help her."
Upon reaching the grand doorway to the chapel, the echo of bootfall hit Selah's ears. She whirled about to see people approaching with a purposeful gait. Elysande, Kraio, Timothy, and a fourth. A hyur man equal to Selah's height, his hair dark and shaggy, clad in chain-linked armor and a sword sheathed at his side.
"Ely, Tim, Kraio, Julio!" Selah assumed a defensive posture in front of The Priest, who had set Ginal upon the carpet. "Stay back, all of you!"
"I will remind you all," The Priest interrupted, "that this is a sacred place. Violence will not be tolerated, and I AM charged by the Twelve to defend that sanctity."
"Yes, that's right, sacred! I, uh, claim sanctuary!" Selah shouted.
Their former comrades continued to close the gap, clearly trying to shake free of their own awe of the grand cathedral.
"Selah, we're not here to fight anyone." Elysande pleaded. "We're here to help you. We all felt this massive outpouring of aether from up here, and we knew something happened."
"Also, the Wailers have arrived in the clearing." Timothy explained. "The others are trying to distract them and their conjurors by pleading for aid, but it will only buy so much time."
"What happened to Gin?" Kraio asked.
"I-I don't know! I knew I needed to get her angry, but then I...I said these terrible things, and she unleashed all this fury through aether and-and then, this! I can't' wake her up!"
Elysande threw her arms around her friend. "Selah, it's gonna be okay. I promised you she'd be safe with us, and we'll do everything we can."
Selah accepted the consoling embrace, knowing Elysande's word was true.
It was art made physical, in both design and purpose, and Selah felt utterly humbled to walk these halls.
"Ginal...Ginal, look at this place! You have to wake up and see it! This is exactly where you always wanted to be bonded!" Tears again crept upon her as she plead to her lover, stroking her hair as they walked.
"Worry not, young lady." The Priest offered. "I'm trained in conjury. I'll do what I can to help her."
Upon reaching the grand doorway to the chapel, the echo of bootfall hit Selah's ears. She whirled about to see people approaching with a purposeful gait. Elysande, Kraio, Timothy, and a fourth. A hyur man equal to Selah's height, his hair dark and shaggy, clad in chain-linked armor and a sword sheathed at his side.
"Ely, Tim, Kraio, Julio!" Selah assumed a defensive posture in front of The Priest, who had set Ginal upon the carpet. "Stay back, all of you!"
"I will remind you all," The Priest interrupted, "that this is a sacred place. Violence will not be tolerated, and I AM charged by the Twelve to defend that sanctity."
"Yes, that's right, sacred! I, uh, claim sanctuary!" Selah shouted.
Their former comrades continued to close the gap, clearly trying to shake free of their own awe of the grand cathedral.
"Selah, we're not here to fight anyone." Elysande pleaded. "We're here to help you. We all felt this massive outpouring of aether from up here, and we knew something happened."
"Also, the Wailers have arrived in the clearing." Timothy explained. "The others are trying to distract them and their conjurors by pleading for aid, but it will only buy so much time."
"What happened to Gin?" Kraio asked.
"I-I don't know! I knew I needed to get her angry, but then I...I said these terrible things, and she unleashed all this fury through aether and-and then, this! I can't' wake her up!"
Elysande threw her arms around her friend. "Selah, it's gonna be okay. I promised you she'd be safe with us, and we'll do everything we can."
Selah accepted the consoling embrace, knowing Elysande's word was true.
"Yeah...thanks, Ely."
Kraio and Timothy were at Ginal's side, both men with hands aglow in aether hovering over her body.
"Can you tell what's wrong?" Selah pleaded.
They have to know. They have to help her!
The magic-users remained silent a long, painfully anxious moment as they concentrated on things Selah could only wildly guess at. She bit her lip as she fought down the urge to pace about. She opened her mouth to repeat her question, but stopped herself from becoming a pest.
Badgering them won't solve anything. They've trained as these magics for years, they'll figure something out.
Both men opened their eyes and rose in unison. Turning and walking away from the gathered group, they whispered loudly at each other, gesturing excitedly at Ginal, each other, and Selah. Selah strained to hear their words, but only came away with half a word here and there.
It must be great to have the ears of an elezen or miqo'te.
More whispers and wide-eyed gestures, and the magic-users beamed at each other as they clapped each other on the shoulder.
"Okay, forgive me for saying so, but this is exciting for us!" Kraio exclaimed.
"Indeed." Timothy agreed. "I have read of things like this in my studies, but this is the first time I have encountered such an event personally."
"What is it? What's happened to Ginal?" Selah demanded.
Kraio was back at Ginal's side, forcing open an eyelid to look within. "So, she was caught in an aetheryte explosion, right?"
"It is a rare event for aetheryte to destabilize like this," Timothy explained, "but when it does, it is a catastrophe in itself."
"Right, and anyone unlucky enough to be caught in the detonation of concentrated aether is typically killed."
"Save for a very, very rare few recorded cases where people have emerged still living, but suffering from acute aether poisoning."
Dissatisfied, Kraio shook his head and closed Ginal's eye. "And among those cases, there's been maybe two or three in all existing records detailing the splitting of a person's soul."
"Split soul?" Selah repeated.
Timothy nodded, "Yes. An exceptionally rare, but still real phenomenon where a person's living soul is split in two by exposure to hyper-concentrated aether."
"And judging from the extreme restlessness and conflict of emotions we sensed in her, we're pretty sure that's what's happened to Gin." Kraio explained.
"Truly, this is fascinating." Timothy mused. "I would love to study this further."
Selah snarled in reaction, and before she realized what happened, she was shaking Timothy by his collar. "She's my fiance, you asshole, not some experiment!"
"Young lady!" The Priest snapped.
Timothy's expression turned from enthusiastic to remorseful. "Selah, I... That is not what I meant, but you are correct. My apologies. My inner academic got the better of me."
She released her friend and turned away, covering her eyes in shame. "I-I'm sorry, Tim. I..."
Kraio rested his hand on Selah's shoulder, offering a kind smile. "Hey, we get it. The point of our rambling is, we think we know how to help her."
"Yes." Timothy added. "If we are correct, Ginal's soul has split in two. For simplicity, we will identify the one we have been contending with as Dark Ginal."
"Seems like Dark Gin's finally exhausted enough of herself to fall dormant again, a least for a while." Kraio explained. "But we need to mend her essence before the dark half takes control again."
"And it likely will."
Tears of relief trickled down Selah's cheeks as she grabbed onto both her friends for an awkward half-embrace.
"I knew you'd figure it out! Hurry, please! Before the Wailers get here!"
The magic-users glanced worriedly at each other, then to Selah.
"That's the thing, though..." Kraio explained. "This isn't just another technique you can learn from the Arcanist Guild or something. This is serious shi-er, ah...business."
The Priest glared sternly upon Kraio, his eyes sending a clear "I"m watching you" message.
"You'll need to merge your soul with Ginal's." Timothy continued. "You need to help the two halves of her essence reconcile with each other and become whole again. But..."
"But what?" Selah pleaded. "Please, Tim, out with it!"
He sighed and shrugged. "Kraio and I will have to use our powers to hold your souls together in a stable network, one which we must have absolute concentration to maintain. If the aetheric network is broken before you are done, we...do not actually know what would happen to you."
"There's also the possibility that staying linked for too long would merge your souls into one entity. That you would cease to be yourselves." Kraio replied. "So...yeah. This is risky. Really, really risky."
But if it works, then I'd get Ginal back. There could be worse fates that being forever merged with her... You could almost call that the ultimate Eternal Bond.
"Make it happen." Selah stated. "This is the only chance I'll have to fix this. Whatever you need to do, gentlemen, do it."
Timothy and Kraio exchanged nervous grins.
"Julio and I will hold the Wailers at the gatehouse." Elysande offered. "Of course, I hope the others can continue to steal their attention for a while longer."
"No violence on this land, young woman!" The Priest scolded. "You keep this fight of yours at the gatehouse, and no further."
"Yes, Father. Would be a shame to stain that lovely stone with blood, anyway."
Elysande and Julio quickly made their way outside the Sanctum's hallowed halls as Timothy and Kraio sat besides Ginal's still body.
"Father." Timothy called. "We would appreciate your aid in this endeavor."
Selah lie alongside Ginal, taking her hand and offering the most reassuring smile she could. She knew Ginal couldn't see it. It more for herself, though it didn't make her any less scared, or anxious. It didn't matter, though. The risk had to be taken. Ginal had suffered enough in this life.
And there was still a vague glimmer of hope that somehow, in some way, all this pain could be put behind them, and they could walk these grand halls on a day of happiness and celebration.
There were worse things to cling to.
The magic-users remained silent a long, painfully anxious moment as they concentrated on things Selah could only wildly guess at. She bit her lip as she fought down the urge to pace about. She opened her mouth to repeat her question, but stopped herself from becoming a pest.
Badgering them won't solve anything. They've trained as these magics for years, they'll figure something out.
Both men opened their eyes and rose in unison. Turning and walking away from the gathered group, they whispered loudly at each other, gesturing excitedly at Ginal, each other, and Selah. Selah strained to hear their words, but only came away with half a word here and there.
It must be great to have the ears of an elezen or miqo'te.
More whispers and wide-eyed gestures, and the magic-users beamed at each other as they clapped each other on the shoulder.
"Okay, forgive me for saying so, but this is exciting for us!" Kraio exclaimed.
"Indeed." Timothy agreed. "I have read of things like this in my studies, but this is the first time I have encountered such an event personally."
"What is it? What's happened to Ginal?" Selah demanded.
Kraio was back at Ginal's side, forcing open an eyelid to look within. "So, she was caught in an aetheryte explosion, right?"
"It is a rare event for aetheryte to destabilize like this," Timothy explained, "but when it does, it is a catastrophe in itself."
"Right, and anyone unlucky enough to be caught in the detonation of concentrated aether is typically killed."
"Save for a very, very rare few recorded cases where people have emerged still living, but suffering from acute aether poisoning."
Dissatisfied, Kraio shook his head and closed Ginal's eye. "And among those cases, there's been maybe two or three in all existing records detailing the splitting of a person's soul."
"Split soul?" Selah repeated.
Timothy nodded, "Yes. An exceptionally rare, but still real phenomenon where a person's living soul is split in two by exposure to hyper-concentrated aether."
"And judging from the extreme restlessness and conflict of emotions we sensed in her, we're pretty sure that's what's happened to Gin." Kraio explained.
"Truly, this is fascinating." Timothy mused. "I would love to study this further."
Selah snarled in reaction, and before she realized what happened, she was shaking Timothy by his collar. "She's my fiance, you asshole, not some experiment!"
"Young lady!" The Priest snapped.
Timothy's expression turned from enthusiastic to remorseful. "Selah, I... That is not what I meant, but you are correct. My apologies. My inner academic got the better of me."
She released her friend and turned away, covering her eyes in shame. "I-I'm sorry, Tim. I..."
Kraio rested his hand on Selah's shoulder, offering a kind smile. "Hey, we get it. The point of our rambling is, we think we know how to help her."
"Yes." Timothy added. "If we are correct, Ginal's soul has split in two. For simplicity, we will identify the one we have been contending with as Dark Ginal."
"Seems like Dark Gin's finally exhausted enough of herself to fall dormant again, a least for a while." Kraio explained. "But we need to mend her essence before the dark half takes control again."
"And it likely will."
Tears of relief trickled down Selah's cheeks as she grabbed onto both her friends for an awkward half-embrace.
"I knew you'd figure it out! Hurry, please! Before the Wailers get here!"
The magic-users glanced worriedly at each other, then to Selah.
"That's the thing, though..." Kraio explained. "This isn't just another technique you can learn from the Arcanist Guild or something. This is serious shi-er, ah...business."
The Priest glared sternly upon Kraio, his eyes sending a clear "I"m watching you" message.
"You'll need to merge your soul with Ginal's." Timothy continued. "You need to help the two halves of her essence reconcile with each other and become whole again. But..."
"But what?" Selah pleaded. "Please, Tim, out with it!"
He sighed and shrugged. "Kraio and I will have to use our powers to hold your souls together in a stable network, one which we must have absolute concentration to maintain. If the aetheric network is broken before you are done, we...do not actually know what would happen to you."
"There's also the possibility that staying linked for too long would merge your souls into one entity. That you would cease to be yourselves." Kraio replied. "So...yeah. This is risky. Really, really risky."
But if it works, then I'd get Ginal back. There could be worse fates that being forever merged with her... You could almost call that the ultimate Eternal Bond.
"Make it happen." Selah stated. "This is the only chance I'll have to fix this. Whatever you need to do, gentlemen, do it."
Timothy and Kraio exchanged nervous grins.
"Julio and I will hold the Wailers at the gatehouse." Elysande offered. "Of course, I hope the others can continue to steal their attention for a while longer."
"No violence on this land, young woman!" The Priest scolded. "You keep this fight of yours at the gatehouse, and no further."
"Yes, Father. Would be a shame to stain that lovely stone with blood, anyway."
Elysande and Julio quickly made their way outside the Sanctum's hallowed halls as Timothy and Kraio sat besides Ginal's still body.
"Father." Timothy called. "We would appreciate your aid in this endeavor."
Selah lie alongside Ginal, taking her hand and offering the most reassuring smile she could. She knew Ginal couldn't see it. It more for herself, though it didn't make her any less scared, or anxious. It didn't matter, though. The risk had to be taken. Ginal had suffered enough in this life.
And there was still a vague glimmer of hope that somehow, in some way, all this pain could be put behind them, and they could walk these grand halls on a day of happiness and celebration.
There were worse things to cling to.
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