A path unwinding

ISAR

Arm yourself

The sack left a bloody trail where it dragged across the obsidian floor. It was heavy, and the man limped as he painstakingly inched towards the altar. Some of the blood was his own; he did not mind. What did it matter, when the contents within the sack and his own emaciated frame was the same?

The offering he piled into the shallow bowl was a gruesome one. Limbs, hands, legs and torso - all that remained of a careless traveler. Judging by the state of them, not one likely to be missed, not that it mattered. Surviving the Wilds on his own had undone most of his conviction towards changing his ways. Now, when he found himself on the edge in all ways, it seemed just as plausible to lean into the path he had been set onto, as moving from it.

At the top of the macabre pile he balanced the head. Empty eyes gazed into his, cloudy and burst; no reflection to be found within, unless as an expression of the hunger that had become part of his very essence.

For good measure, Isar drew from his belt a dagger and slashed a deep cut into his arm. The blood stained the gaping lips of the corpse, gushing from the severed neck, trickled down to every part of the pile.

"Goddes Dygra, hear me. Accept my offering. I have no family, no home, nothing to call my own. This existence - it's not a life I want anymore. Do you want it? I'll give it to you, for a chance to belong somewhere."

Black eyes stared into the darkness, void of any real hope. This was a last gamble; if this failed, he would probably die before ever leaving the Climb.

Because no one else here will save you

Dygra

Time stretches outwards, less a line and more like a blood splatter, and for the longest time, only the soft sound of crimson dripping into the obsidian bowl breaks the silence in the wake of Isar's words. But softly, slowly, even that disappears. Not because of any alteration in sound, of course - merely because the blood is no longer there. Sucked down deep into the black gemstone, the pile of gore will dessicate before the Accepted's very eyes, until only bones and dust are left behind.

"A generous offering from a generous soul." Dygra's voice comes from nowhere and everywhere at once; Isar will feel it tickling at his fingers and his lips, will hear it dancing along his scalp and down his throat. "You would become as my children are, dark boy? You would be Ancient?"

Table coding by Sky <3

ISAR

Arm yourself

Breath catching in his throat made his head spin. The presence filling the space around him - and within him - was more immense than any be had experienced, and Isar found it soothing. Terrifying. Empowering. Her voice sent shivers down his back; black eyes watched the offering wither and disappear with deep satisfaction. It had worked. He had made the right choice, and the gamble paid off.

An answer at all would have been enough. A hint on where to go, a task to complete – anything that acknowledged his wish. But the offer The goddess extended went even further, to a possibility he had not dared hope for.

"Darkest Lady. It would be my honor to be Ancient, if you would have me," he rumbled, eager excitement building beneath the man's gaunt exterior. "Yes. What do I need to do?"

Because no one else here will save you

Dygra

"Dear, sweet boy," Dygra whispers, her voice reverberating within and without. "You have come here to my shrine. You have already done what is required." His being there is the only prerequisite needed, and even as the sweetness of her voice fades, the vibration will remain in his bones, beneath his feet. "Come."

She means it metaphorically and literally, for even as heat and darkness flood through Isar, something reaches for him through the obsidian, bejewelled, coiling limbs, grasping and drawing him deep into the very Climb itself. It will hurt, because transformations are not always painless - the eruption of horns from his skull, the fire searing his blood - but it will not last long.

And when he comes to, alone, in a bejewelled cavern soaked with bloody gemstones, he will find himself part of a family like no other.

---

Dygra has fulfilled Isar's request to become an Ancient!

Table coding by Sky <3

ISAR

Arm yourself

He would have accepted anything to become something else. To hand himself over - body and soul - seemed too easy for him who had never truly owned himself before. But when She swallowed him up, as his screams echoed through the caverns and he learned of fire and rock, Isar learned that surrendering anything at all would always be the most difficult thing he ever would do for the rest of his life.

It was a comfort, then, to wake into the knowledge that it was all downhill from here. Not literally, perhaps, because the crystalline cavern laid deep within the Climb - but in the sense that he had already endured the worst. Now, as the skull-splitting ache in his head faded to a dull throb and his swollen tongue raked over teeth made sharp as fangs, it was with a giddy exitement that he explored his newborn self and slowly, staggering, got to his feet. Clawed feet. Tail whipping in search of balance, until a shaky equilibrium was obtained.

"Thank you Mother," he rumbled into the shadows, and found that he could still speak in a reverent whisper. "I am beyond grateful."

And hungry. Ravenously, maddeningly hungry. It drove him from the cavern and into the sweltering yet comfortable tunnels beyond, staggering blindly into the darkness; off to hunt, to feast, to celebrate this his second Birthday.

{Fin}

Because no one else here will save you