[RQ] In the beginning there was darkness

when I walk in a room, I can still make the whole place shimmer

"Why not?" The priestess wonders with an expression of genuine interest and confusion. Not wanting to coax Maea closer for concern that it would only push her away, still Charlie's fingers yearned to braid the girl's long silvery hair, to tickle her fingertips across her pale eyelashes, and to warm the blood both settled on her skin and below with her own touch. But you know, in a friendly way.

"That's okay though. There's no need to worship the way that others do!" Charlie invites brightly. "This just..." Glancing around at the blood, the theatre of it all, she shrugs. "It's what appeals to most, but you have to remember, different doesn't mean bad or wrong." As for wishing she didn't have to, Charlie can only nod her head. "But you do have to do it. It's what keeps you alive." She says rather matter-of-factly. "Wishing won't change it. The sooner you're able to let yourself accept that, the easier it will be." Having been born an ancient, the priestess felt no such conflicts, but she'd been around long enough before she'd been frozen to have seen a few of their created-kin struggle.

"Of course it's okay." Charlie confirms, her smile warm, her eyes bright. Pressing a fingertip into the center of the blood to create a small ripple, fire suddenly sparked outwards, consuming the urn to heat it afresh. "You don't even have to do this part, if you don't want to. It's all about what you want, and the only way it can be wrong, is if you let your mind interfere with that."

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Maea

My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on the limb

"Because - !" she began with a note of frustration that bred a wild gesture, quickly reigned in and strapped down the moment she realized she'd raised her voice. "Because to me, chaos is... terrifying. Losing control isn't something that's ever worked out well, it only brings pain and death and the destruction of all I've ever cared about. I really don't see what's worth celebrating about any of that." Asta had received the same answer, and she remained unconvinced even though he'd insisted that there was fun to be had in there somewhere. She simply couldn't see where. "I do appreciate Dygra, don't get me wrong. She offered me a chance to live, and I've liked all the ancients I've met so far - that's reason enough for me to worship. It's just... I don't know. I never liked killing, even growing up on a farm where it was necessary."

Feeling like she was talking in circles around herself, it was growing increasingly difficult to pinpoint exactly what it was that upset her. Half giving up the attempt to explain what didn't even make sense to herself, Maea just shook her head in exasperation and watched the priestess heat up the blood instead. "That should be awful," she pointed out, "but for some reason it doesn't even make me flinch. So many things... that used to be normal and natural, suddenly isn't. And I did nothing to earn or evolve into that change." Maybe that was part of the problem. There was no segue between before and after. Only 'feeling nothing' and 'feeling everything' mashed together in her body without any gradual shift in mindset.

And I remember thinking — I want to be like them

when I walk in a room, I can still make the whole place shimmer

Softly, Charlie smiled and gave her head the tiniest shake in the wake of Maea's clear frustration. "I meant why haven't you ever been who you want to be, and why you never will." The priestess clarifies gently, not that she minds at all hearing her silvery counterparts take on chaos.

"Has holding on tightly worked out better for you?" The blonde wonders. "Has control faired you any better?" Charlie didn't quite think it had, given all that she'd seen and heard so far. "As for celebrating it...all that we are is chaos, really. It's the way of the world. You can try and predict things, try and plan for them, but things are never always going to go quite the way you think. So you can either fight it and be unhappy about it, or just...accept it. I find that once you accept that most things are out of your control, you're happier for it, and a happier life is usually a better one."

Instead of belabouring the point, Charlie only nodded as Maea reiterated her dislike; such was her right, to dislike things, and though the priestess still thought that there were other factors to consider, this didn't strike her as the right time to keep poking deeper into that particular wound.

"That too is part of the chaos of it all. Sometimes life is unfair when we don't deserve it, and sometimes we are lucky when we don't deserve it." Charlie agrees. "It sounds as though your instincts are at war with your head more often than not." But then of course, Charlie had no idea what or who the Voice was, or what sort of creatures she'd made her ancients into.

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Maea

My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on the limb

"Oh." Blushing at her mistake, the small woman shifted uncomfortably. "Well, first I was too sick and weak to even consider leaving my bed, let alone fulfilling any goals. Then I followed my passions into an early grave, which sort of put an end to the ones I had found. I wanted to change the way people and the gods think about the Abandoned... but now I'm neither abandoned nor attuned, so the chance to make a difference has gone." Others were doing what she'd wanted, and she would have to find some other goal to strive for. It was not going all that well.

As for the control thing... her weary sigh pretty much answered the question for her. "No," she admitted, a touch surly. "But at the very least I figure I should be able to control myself. If I can't even do that, how am I supposed to remain responsible for my actions? If I do something it should be because I knew what I was stepping into and chose it, not because I tripped and fell and oops, suddenly the world around me is on fire." These instincts were getting in the way of that. Messed up everything she thought she knew about herself, until she didn't know what was going on anymore.

Needing something to do to distract herself from upset thoughts, she borrowed a lick of flame from the boundary. Molding it into butterflies, she sent them scattering across the circle to dance above the carcass of the pig, and in a wreath over Charlie's head. Some flickered out and vanished when they moved beyond her range of control, or when she lost track of them - but most stayed. Erratic as her mind, but far more beautiful.

And I remember thinking — I want to be like them

when I walk in a room, I can still make the whole place shimmer

"That makes you sound like a wonderfully clean slate." Charlie says brightly; not empty, not blank, but clean. "You have so many experiences that no one else has. And you died?" The blonde's jaw drops open as if Maea had just said that she'd met some celebrity, rather than lost her life. "Honestly, and I'm only saying this because obviously, you're alive now, but that's so epic. Like, who else can say that?"

Twisting her lips into a pretty pout, the priestess gives Maea a wry look. "I completely agree! That's why I always think it's so important to listen to yourself and know the things that you want and what you don't. It makes it that much easier to choose them." If what Maea wanted was abstinence or privacy, then so be it. If she wanted to take a delicate approach to her bloodlust, so be it.

Watching as the flames turned into soft silhouettes that danced above her head, the priestess sighed adoringly before returning her fire-bright gaze to Maea and standing up away from the urn. "You know what I think you need more than this?" This being the sow, the urn, the blood.

Stretching out one of her hands, Charlie lets the fire slowly billow down her arm as she wiggles her fingers, indicating the other woman could take as much of the fire as she wanted. "Repeat after me: I'm going to do the things I want to do." A pause. "And if I do something I don't want to do, it's because I choose to."

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Maea

My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on the limb

It was a slip of the tongue, really. She hadn't meant to bring that part of her life up. The woman's reaction was so different from the usual solemn apologies however that a surprised laugh escaped Maea. She actually smiled, if a bit ruefully. "I hate to disappoint you, but it's incredible how pedestrian it has become. People walk in and out of Mort's Halls like they own them these days." It was an exaggeration of course, but felt better than to just bat away the uniqueness of the experience. Awful as it had been in many ways, and much as she was damaged by it... at least she had learned a few things that the majority wouldn't until it was too late.

Blinking and sitting upright when the priestess altered the plans, Maea slowly extended her arm. Fire she didn't mind. Far from it; she loved magic, and didn't hesitate to cover her arm with borrowed light. It took a delicate touch not to singe her sleeves, but that was part of the fun. As for the vow - because this had the distinct feel of a vow - Maea considered it for a moment. Whether it was something she could stick with.

"I'm going to do the things I want to do," she repeated, voice steady despite a slight squirming and habitual 'but what if's' that crowded her mind. "And if I do something I don't want to do, it's because I choose to."

Was it said with conviction? Not really. But the words in themselves felt powerful, enough to draw a sheepish, and slightly giddy smile to her lips.

And I remember thinking — I want to be like them

when I walk in a room, I can still make the whole place shimmer

"Not me. I was encased in stone for centuries. Being dead sounds way better." Charlie says, taking Maea's laughter as a good sign and happily relaxing into the musicality of the sound.

As Maea spoke, Charlie had the fire around them sway and rise, mimicking the sound of the ancient's voice as if the silver-haired woman's words were being traced by the heat and light all around them. "There you go." The priestess purred, her cheeks round with praise and pride. "Anytime your feelings get too big, or things seem impossible, just bring it back down to those two things." If Maea wanted to be in control, Charlie could work with that. Though neither of them might be able to control the chaos that unfolded around them, what they could do, was make conscious choices to either do, or not do, wholly, and with conviction.

Maybe, if she ran into Maea again, Charlie could try and convince her away from her thinking of things as being good or bad, right or wrong, but for now, she was nearly brimming with pride that her counterpart had persevered through the anxiety which had grasped her earlier.

"Now," Charlie chuckled. "I know what I want to do next, and you've said what you want to do." I.e,. Charlie really wanted to get off and Maea really did not want to be around for it. "But before you go, I'm really glad I bumped into you tonight, Maea. You're really special." Had the loreseeker not had a wall dozens of feet high, Charlie might have thrown her arms around the other woman and hugged her close, kissing the sticky blood off of her cheeks in the process. Instead of this, the priestess cupped her hands by her mouth and exhaled softly, spreading her fingers to reveal a little butterfly like the one Maea had made, before sending it forward.

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Maea

My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on the limb

Curiosity sparked in the loreseeker at that little tidbit. While Asta and Danta both had been stonebound, neither men had been very eloquent about their pasts - certainly not in the way this woman had been. As one who never ran out of questions, she'd love to pick her brain about what was history to Maea, and yesterday to Charlie.
But that was a conversation for another time. Her head hurt too much to think much more for the evening, and her latest acquaintance had a ritual to finish. "Thank you," she simply said instead. "For listening, even though you really didn't have to. It... I really appreciate it." Maybe next time they met she wouldn't be such a mess.

Softening at the sweet gesture, Maea accepted the butterfly and fed it a touch of her own magic so that it would remain intact. "I'm glad to have met you, too. Can I... can I know your name?" Suddenly shy upon realizing that she'd completely skipped all kinds of introductions, she would linger only long enough to hear the answer. Then she was on her feet, ready to head home and leave the priestess to her 'worship'.

If a small part of her was curious, and maybe even regretting the choice to leave and not see this through to the end, it was quickly smothered and squished, trampled under a heel and buried beneath the ashes. There was progress, and then there was trauma - better call it quits while she was still ahead.

And I remember thinking — I want to be like them

when I walk in a room, I can still make the whole place shimmer

"But I wanted to." The priestess replied emphatically. While it was true that Charlie's golden-retriever energy usually had her up for most things, it was also true that when things didn't strike her fancy, she was more than content to say so and be off. If she'd found Maea boring or lacking, no doubt the ritual would have proceeded very differently.

"Oh! Right!" Laughing and looking a touch apologetic—once upon a time most knew who she was—Charlie beamed. "I'm Charlie." lalala guess she doesn't know Maea's name either, woooooops.

Waiting until Maea had parted from the circle, only then did the priestess move onto the final, and her favourite, portion of her worship.

~FIN

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