That's Some Freaky Pet Semetary Stuff Right There

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Addie
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That's Some Freaky Pet Semetary Stuff Right There

Post by Addie »

February 13th
Tower of Fire
Twilight Isle


Up, up, up. Addie’s feet kept her moving further and further up the Tower of Fire’s stairs, climbing and climbing despite the fatigue that weighed her muscles down like concrete. She had to keep running though, no matter how much the hot tower sent rivulets of sweat dripping down her body, stinging her eyes and making her cut off t-shirt stick uncomfortably to her back. Finally she reached the summit and burst free from the stifling heat onto the tower’s roof. Slowing to a jog and then a trudge, she made it to the wall’s edge, her hands coming to grip the rampart for stability’s sake. The surrounding volcano’s temperature didn’t grant much of a reprieve but eventually Addie caught her breath and turned back around to make the descent back into the infernal pit that was the Fire Keeper’s domain. It was better than running on the beach. Alone. And so Adelaide kept up the established routine of exhaustive running and training and fighting with Hope as if doing so would keep her Sandalio’s memory pumping through her veins with every blow delivered. She took in one last lungful of fresh air, pulled the door shut behind her and hit the stairs once more.

Down, down, down. The deeper she went, the hotter it got. Brimstone tickled her nose and she pawed a hand across her face to swipe away sweat and the growing scent of decay that permeated through the tower’s bowels. The stench grew thicker and Addie found her eyes watering in ways that sweat couldn’t possibly have accounted for. It reeked. The half-dragon’s sensitive olfactory center found itself positively overwhelmed by a smell that typically meant only one thing. Death. Again Addie’s feet slowed in their rhythm, the iron gate before her proving a formidable barrier to her progress. Never before had she made it this far down into the dark depths where the fiery walls were something of an inky black accented by cracks of glowing scarlet, pulsing like veins circulating the tower’s lifeblood through its extremities. Whatever was beyond the gate was certainly the source of the smell, there was no question about that. The real question was whether Addie had it in her to explore further.

“M-Miss Hope?” Addie’s wavering voice came out but a choppy stutter, languishing and dying out in the dank humidity of the tower’s innermost realm. A faltering hand reached for the thick black cast iron gate’s handle, drawing away as quickly as it touched when she heard the hissing of sweat evaporating on heated metal. Again she passed her arm across her forehead, smearing moisture across her temple and diverting the steady trickles from further irritating her eyes. Her head was spinning, the combination of heat and putrid stench making it hard to breathe. Once more she reached, this time moving more quickly to pull hard on the gate, the screeching groan rewarding her with a slow creaking swing and enough of a gap for her to barely squeeze through. And so she slipped, making the last leap of faith into the tower’s final sanctum and toward whatever lay beyond.

Atop the spire adorned in flames Hope resided beside the dancing light within the inset fireplace. Shadows galloped and frolicked against the black stone walls behind her and down atop the desktop was the paper she struggled to fill with the rampant ideas between her ears. The sound of steps could be heard in the winding distance of the stairwell which fed directly to the twin oak doors, heavy as they were, propped open at the mouth of her chambers. Young as she may be Addie was shaping into a resilient thing with the way she assaulted the narrower paths of the slicked stone that forged the path from where it scraped the sky, to the pit below. Keep it up. She too had done that very fundamental work at one point, though it was at a different location and often included a boulder and a pond. She didn’t think that was fit for a girl Addie’s age though and was far happier to see the girl working up a sweat.

Maybe, just maybe Hope had turned up the heat during Addie’s jogging. She herself had to hide the sweat rolling down her so as not to give it away that this kind of atmosphere, well it was something that would prove formidable for anyone to run in. Through fire and crucible though, that was the philosophy of the silver-haired woman. As she passed back on that circuit heading past the torches, multi-hued in their own solitary dances, she set the pen down and scooted the chair back. Youth was something shrouded to her vision. An elusive thing that though she had seen and experienced it from her perspective, she was caught within a flux; young in experience, young in time but she felt as though it was a sand she could never hold. Most people had years to figure out what their niche was in life or where they could do the most benefit. Some even figured out where they might do the most harm but for her? Day to day she attempted to progress with the mindset so simple but true: be better than I was yesterday. The fire was all around her now, in Addie, in life itself. She leaned back on her chair lifting the front two legs as she looked at the mantle overhead and admired the three paintings, all combining to one mural of flowers. It was her favorite work and summoned a smile from her with strings tracing to her heart. As she smiled she could hear Addie’s voice echoing from below. She meant to respond truly but was lost in the sight before her. As her hands folded and rest upon her stomach she could feel a thousand needles strike her nerves as she heard the cry of the iron gate. The world froze.
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Post by Hope »

Blood halted within her veins and threatened to splinter like a tundra through her limbs and heart. Hollowed was the apparition that trickled down her spine colder than a glacier in the arctic. The black caste iron gate was for her eyes only. “Addie?!” Her voice was shrill and fragile, something that sounded as though it might shatter upon touching the very walls it bounced off of. Winding around the final step she came to the sight of the gate and the lack of the young girl. Even now she could not smell the penetrating putrid stench, perhaps from all of the time she had spent with it until now. She merely stared, knowing that she would have to pursue but now? The salt began to well around her eyes and she could feel the horror welling up inside.

Adelaide hadn’t made it too much further than the gate, the ghastly scene beyond proving too much for the teenager’s halfway delicate sensibilities. Her eyes had rounded wide, typically slitted pupils dilated fully to take in every inch of the room before her. She had tugged the collar of her shirt up over her nose, her fingers splayed over her covered mouth. Everything in her told her to run, turn around and run until she couldn’t run anymore. Right out the tower, through the Isle’s portal and as far away from this wretched hellhole as possible. Run, Addie, run. But she couldn’t, her feet having become cement blocks that held her firmly to the spot with such intensity she was in danger of sprouting roots right through the floor beneath her. Paint and putrescence, it was such a poetic pairing but the puerile princess couldn’t properly process the influx of penetrating stimuli and she found herself reeling until her hand planted to one wall. It wasn’t until her gaze met the room’s corner that she found the meaning of true horror, the apex of terror finally registering in her stunned mind.

Long past the point of rigor mortis, the body sagged in corner chair, decay seemingly held off by the magical wards of the tower’s walls. Despite this, he was in rough shape. He. Yes, it was him. A thin wound through the underside of his chin set agape, crusted by dried blood but hardly comparing in macabre goriness to the wide hole in the corpse’s chest. Splintered bone and torn flesh framed the hastily made doorway to where his heart should have been. The cavity was empty and the edge of one lung peeked from the wound’s edge, deflated and devoid of any sign of circulation. Nobody could have survived such an injury. His heart had been ripped out. Sandalio… No. Addie’s own heart sank at much the same time a violent tumult rocked the depths of her stomach and with a rough lurch, she bent hastily at the waist and ejected the remnants of her breakfast across the room’s floor like some regurgitated Jackson Pollock to add to Hope’s art collection.

“H-Hope…” Addie mumbled, dragging the back of her hand across her mouth to wipe away a dribble of sick. The emptiness in her gut was soon overtaken by a rush of panic and her voice reached a screech that rivaled the guttural groan of the gate that guarded the room. One more time with feeling, Addie. “HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPE!”

Blurs of black with technicolor rushed by her head as she vaulted down the stairwell. The black gate, the iron clad bars that held the world at bay and kept her heart and her darkest secrets was ajar. Her nails dug into her palms and pierced her flesh allowing the warm red to trickle down, drip drip drip’ing as it went. Addie could not be blamed for finding what was buried there. As she stared now the torrent of death washed over her and she felt it grip her knees as she began to shake and leaned over, vomiting for the first time. She had locked more than just a body away down there. Everything had been locked down there and she had been able to partition it all away; the pain, the burden and everything that she could not face.

Poor red riding hood came face to face with the wolf. Addie’s voice bounced among the walls and the stones that held the tower together and Hope was quick to descend into the pit, the loud cry of the gate closing behind her. Slowly she descended into the familiar house of pain where her constructs came to life and she released the chaotic verse of her mind upon the blank slates. “You have to shut it behind you Addie. You never know who will be coming by.”

She made her way past the girl with a smile on her face as she got to Sandalio and gently propped him against the back of the chair. “Doesn’t he look happy? Like his good old self.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and it was clear that while she wasn’t facing Addie she’d begun to weep. “I can’t turn back time Addie as badly as I want to. I just figured if I could keep him here… just for a little while…” She turned to the girl with red rimmed eyes and one of the most foul, forced smiles that felt like daggers in her heart. “What else am I supposed to do?”
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Post by Addie »

“I can’t turn back time Addie as badly as I want to. I just figured if I could keep him here… just for a little while…What else am I supposed to do?”

Dominoes fall. One by one until the force is an unstoppable torrent of tipping and tumbling chaos. The events that unfolded proved incomprehensible for Adelaide's mind. Just how had she reached this point? Such a desperate precipice that had her teetering on a razor's edge of morals and laws, ready to sacrifice all she had learned over the years. Her personal constitution, the vows she had taken, all of it. When the pair, teacher and student, parted under the premise of action, Addie was left to dwell on the thoughts that crept through her mind.

What if you could turn back time? Or at least undo the damage that had been done? That's what her aim was, not to rewind but at least allow Sandy the opportunity to join them in the present. To give him the time that had been taken away when his heart had been ripped from his chest and the silver blade had been thrust through his brain. Addie shuddered. Wrong and right no longer came to mind.

"Kane... I need your help and you cannot ask any questions." Once outside of the tower, she spoke quickly and quietly into the second hand clamshell phone like the passing goblins had some stake in her conversation. Quickly she had to interrupt him when he did exactly what she told him not to.

"No, look, I'm fine. I promise. I'm not in trouble, you don't have to kill anyone," yet, "and I don't need to be bailed out. I'm with Hope." Sort of. "I need to... do something, for a friend."

Kane began to object.

"No, no, not Michi, don't worry. I just... yeah. I need a few things, can you help me?"

He agreed. Addie released a tight sigh of relief.

"Okay, thank you Kane. I owe you big time. I'll need candles, five of them, doesn't matter what kind. Incense, sandalwood and sage. Chalk, two different kinds, the big thick sticks and the smaller ones meant for writing. White will be good enough. Bring the first aid kit as well."

Once more her warden broke out into protest and again Addie was swift in her interruption.

"It's FINE. I promise. It's just in case. Kane, I told you, you can't ask questions. I need you to trust me. Please..." She wasn't sure she trusted herself so if he didn't, who would?
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Sulfurous brimstone surrounded him, infiltrating the sweat that clung to his skin. Kruger was focused, maybe too focused on the void that stood on display before him. He’d barely noticed the sign in the flames of the forge. Another of those summons from Hope, a phoenix burning, was it rising or falling? He could never tell, did Hope realize the change to the thing as it hit the flames in his forge? Did she feel it turning from bright orange hues to a flickering blackness that burned a shade brighter than the shadows it created? Perhaps it was simply a trick of his mind, something he perceived but didn’t really exist. He’d been there before. Drops of sweat sizzled against the metal of the forge adding their small burst of steam to the overwhelming weight of the atmosphere.

Kruger concentrated on the bird, listening for its message to him. It wasn’t what he’d expected, the last time had been a request to come to the tower. This time she asked for the marketplace. He knew where she meant, it was the same place they’d talked before. His head dropped, eyes closing wearily as the world chose to impose upon him once more. The flames laughed at him, they always seemed to be laughing as they cried out. We burn, everything burns. An unsteady hand rose to take his torn t-shirt from its hook and slide it over his head. One last look at the singularity that seemed to hover in the uppermost recesses of the gallery’s dome. A pair of burning eyes fixed on him from the floor below. It was always watching him now, rarely did it speak and only then was it to question him.

“I’m going out, don’t disturb the shielding, I want to return to this place as it is, not some hole in the ground.” The only response was a blink that cut off the burning gaze for the fraction of a second. Kruger made his way down the winding staircase and out the doorway, his goal, the fountain where he knew he’d find Hope waiting.

A reminiscent place brought her back to a year ago or close enough to it. A conversation that started at the same place, a discussion about a name that led to something far more. It was a bitter night, something she had been shielded from by the black stone tower that was her own heart’s forge. Trickling water tickled her hands as they gripped the cold stone that she sat upon. To think when she had first come to Rhy’Din how the city was marvelous and terrifying. A mystery around every corner and the lights had illuminated the cobblestone and steel alike. Affinity was no less the perfect word to describe how she fit into the perfectly shaped hole awaiting her.

What was it that filled the city’s air that could stir the heartstrings so easily? Love and hate, fear and the unknown or the familiarity of the twin moons cascading overhead? She had sent out for the man she had met here a year ago and knew that he would come as he had then. Back then it was a dilemma that was less life and death yet still a matter of importance and weight that he had managed to shoulder with seeming ease. Behind his eyes alone was the truth of the matter but what was perceived and what had been understood was for her own nature to conclude; he was a capable man, proud in his craft and reliable until the end of days.


She had heard it from an unknown source and during a recent check up with the team’s physician she had confirmed that if you hold your left hand in a fist, it is the size of your heart. She looked before he curled fingers and the white that they caused from the pressure of pressing into her palm as the thoughts of what had occurred raced through her mind. To destroy, to kill- it is a far less strenuous thing, a far less meaningful action than to give life or to create. How easily one could vanish like a snuffed flame from life. To give life anew, to bring back that which has been taken- it was ironic that she was to play a part in such an iconic task. As her fingers slowly unfurled what lay in the wake was a dancing flame, something small and fragile to the eyes but would give birth to something strong and lasting.

“We’re going to make things right.”


The smith had managed to make it to the fountain in time to hear Hope’s words. Right, he hardly understood the word. What was right or wrong? There was only what could be done and that knowledge had his face looking haunted. He let go of the breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding, seeing Hope here brought memories back, ones where he was far more optimistic. His awareness of everything was heightened here, the trickle of the water around her hands sent mathematical formulas racing through his mind. Everything was numbers now, and he fought to push away the litany of the spiral he’d been prone to fall into. The echoes of it bounced through the back of his mind though. Zero, one, one...two, Kruger gave a mighty mental shrug to force them further back to the point he could almost forget.

“What are we making right now?” He tried to smile, but it was a cruel imitation of what most expected from him. His stance was far from the arrogance he normally gave to the world, shoulders dropped into a slouch that may have been the best physical visual of the load he was bearing. “This world is full of secrets Hope, some of them can’t be unseen.” He stopped talking, afraid to give away too much. Instead he moved to sit next to her ignoring the bite of the air, or the chill of the stone upon which he settled.

The gaze he turned on her was one that had looked too long into the void, searching for a hint of something he could use. To see her hurt, the urge to lose it made him angry. Kruger’s eyebrows descended into a scowl that had him grinding his teeth and only darkening his expression. Hope, it was supposed to mean something wasn’t it? Maybe he’d given up. “I’m here, I don’t see the others…” He was referring to the team of magic users. “I can only assume that there is something I can provide.”
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Post by Hope »

A master of his craft, was one ever just what they had perfected? She didn’t believe so and she had an inkling that Kruger would strongly agree with that sentiment. They were the summation of all of their failures just as well as their success stories. Were Hope to place one word on Kruger, should the silly task ever come to hand she would choose none other than intense. He was intense in his craft, he was intense with his passion and now even though she could bestow the weight of the world upon his shoulders he looked as intense as ever, prepared in his own way as Atlas might have before him.

“We create, we forge, we give life to that which was none. Are we God, Kruger?” She looked to him with her hands folded upon her stomach. More rhetorical than anything else she breathed in the callous breeze chilling enough to freeze your drink but exhaled heat visible in the night.

“This isn’t going to involve anyone else unless we move forward. This is something that I need your okay with or it will not get off the ground.” She didn’t know the look he had in his eyes tonight. If she knew Turing, Gödel, Boltzmann or Cantor, she might have had more of a clue at the toll numbers wore upon the mind. Dams stood between the mind and the heart but she could at least understand that his heart was well operating and she trusted his mind was.

“Our hearts act as the compass when our minds already have our routes set. Can we know for certain that we’re heading in the right direction even when our compass says we’re not? We’re told we’ll get there but… seeing is believing. What I’m going to ask of you isn’t something I would anyone else. We’re not God but we’re going to pretend to be. I need to recreate a heart, a compass for someone and I’m afraid I don’t have the skills to do it on my own. That’s where you come in.” She looked to him with the burden present and thick in the air between them. Who were they to play God? Imperative as it was she accepted that he might decline and walk away but she respected him. She knew his decision, should it be to stand up and leave, it was what was right for them all.

No, he knew the answer better than any that he was not a god. He felt time’s passage, saw everything he wanted to achieve laying in a distant future that he didn’t think he’d ever see. What would he want if the situation were reversed? He didn’t know. “I have no real respect for them really Hope. Everything comes too easily for a god. They are a jealous lot, love me above all for I am all powerful. The power is there for all of us though. I’ll do this for you, but I have my own needs.”

Kruger’s fingers dug into his palms, he closed those wheat colored eyes tight blocking Hope, the fountain, and the city at large behind a wall of black. Part of him was afraid she’d see the demons that hid just beneath the surface, the ones that hunted him in his dreams telling him that time was running out. “I don’t require money, not this time… How old are you?”

An inappropriate question to ask, except he needed to know even if he couldn’t quite figure out what was compelling him. His follow up seemed even worse to him, he’d have left it inside his head if he didn’t need to know that too. “How far are you willing to go to make those gods a little more jealous?” The voice in his head was screaming at him to stop talking, to stop considering the thing that was at the forefront of his thoughts. They were his secrets to keep or to give, when he allowed his eyes to open again, he fixed them on Hope’s face in a look that carried the weight of that intensity. “Because this will cost more than you can possibly imagine.”
The smith’s fingers unfurled, stretching to brush his fingertips against the wolf branded into his face. Everything had a price, sometimes you were simply forced to bear it. “Take me to Aetna, and we’ll show Hephaestus how shortsighted he is.”

From a-to-z she was confident there was a topic the two could discuss at any given moment or time. The current one took a little honesty of her as she looked up to the sky and the stars and only one of the two Rhy’Din moons present. “Everything I’ve ever been given or experienced has come from the powers I’ve seen and felt.” She spoke with a particular yellow rock within her grasp. A warmth radiated out and she closed her eyes before opening them once more over the sea of lights flickering overhead. As he spoke she listened and understood well what he had said. However in the thick words carried a stirring gust that tore through her mind.

She looked from the sky and what lay in the stars and between to his face. “How old am I?” It struck her completely off guard and she only hesitated by means of deciphering the proper answer through the unintentionally ambiguous question. “Can you believe it’s been almost a year since our first meeting here?” Was that the answer he was looking for? She couldn’t quite tell but she thought of the things she had learned. “Twenty two, almost.” That was counting a past that was behind thick smog and barbed memories. Too dangerous to tread alone but far too violent and painful to bring another for the journey.

His further questioning had her stomach knotting tighter. Breaths began to shrink into slithers in her lungs; they thirsted for more when left so deprived. “How far?” What was the worth of a life? Carefully her eyes descended upon her hands against her stomach. What was the cost of a life? Lines were drawn to keep men safe. To keep men safe from what lingered beyond where the sun resided and beyond the shallow waters; their haven where they could play and laugh and sing. Lines were drawn to let man know where he dare not tread if he truly valued what he was gifted. Time, life- every breath that they took for granted was a gift to be cherished. Whose was it to give? That was the question that she embarked to answer. A wild imagination, a crazy sentiment brought about by youthful minds and now in the final stages, those last isometric plans before they would set sail to spoil the grapes of wrath.

Hot tears filled the rims of her eyes within the shadow of the colossal questions he placed upon her shoulders, as they had been atop his. What was she willing to give up? Her life? The life within her? Another’s? It pained her to swallow that lump in her throat and she took a grasp at the air before her. “Whatever it takes.”
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Post by Addie »

February 14th--3:00 AM
Tower of Fire
Twilight Isle


The unsteady tune that hummed on her lips was a stark contrast to the war drums that beat in her ears, her heartbeat hammering away at such a frantic pace that Addie was certain they may very well burst before she was through. If the heat in the tower had subsided, Addie couldn’t tell, and her cut off t-shirt and shorts were plastered to her frame in awkwardly uncomfortable ways. Thankfully, the discomfort did little to sway her from the wide sweeping circle she etched in the room’s floor, chalk arcing out into a smooth border despite her shaking hands. She made sure to press hard over paint splatters to make the white circle stand out against the dank darkness. Really, this would have been easier in a bigger, less stifling area, but Addie feared moving Sandy’s body too far. Once the circle was constructed, she smudged one edge to break it, scooted within and then worked to frantically but neatly inscribe a series of runes set into long, thin lines that cut straight paths cleanly through the circle. Finally, she wiggled out of the circle and with a little assistance, hauled the semi-squishy corpse from the corner to the circle, gently depositing him within.

My sweet girl, my dear sweet Adelaide… what brought you to this point? The gentle chiding in the back of her mind had her swiping at her ear, irritated to the point a verbal response spewed forth.

“He can’t die like this… I have to do something… anything… I can… I can bring him back…” Addie mumbled, making sure Sandalio’s body was fully in the ring before she chalked it closed again, infusing a thrum of Will into her work to fully seal it. If this went well, that was fine and dandy, but the protective circle wasn’t to keep Sandy safe no matter how much she said it was. Never before had she pushed this far into the realm of her particular… art, but here she was, honestly contemplating the likelihood of resurrecting her friend who had been deceased for the better part of a month.

This was insane.

A flick of her fumbling fingers engaged the Bic lighter’s wheel and a tiny trembling flame danced to life atop it. Addie held it to the wick of a long, thin candle until it ignited, at which point the lighter was discarded in favor of using the candle as her torch. Four more candles were lit in counter-clockwise order. Next she ripped open the package of incense sticks, hastily procured from the dollar store around the corner from the the Isle’s portal in Rhydin proper. Wavering tips were dipped into the blue of the candles’ flames until a tiny cherry glow birthed itself upon the sticks’ tips. They were planted at the same systematic intervals around the circle, thin wisps rising and giving the stinking room a conflicting overtone of jasmine, lavender, and sandalwood. Thick and heady, Addie wafted the smoke until it ringed the circle in much the same way the glow of the candles did.

Once those two had been established, she spun the cap off the fresh bottle of water, sending it skittering off across the room like a rock skipped across a placid lake. As tempting as it was to chug the tepid liquid, Addie instead dumped little glugs into her palm and smeared a wider circle around the candles and incense, making sure to close it fully at the ends. And finally earth, soil ground to a fine consistency in her palm was gently sanded just around the painted water’s edge. The mounds of dirt crested and bottomed out in uneven peaks and valleys to be smoothed with a careful pass of her index fingernail until it was as close to uniform as possible.

“I need… quiet for this.” She would need to pour the entirety of her concentration into such a tall order and even the tiniest distraction could easily prove disastrous. “So… please wait… I’ll call when we need the… thing.” Addie mumbled, a visible shudder racking her narrow shoulders. She scooted to the wide ring’s edge, face to face with her best friend’s broken and empty body. His lids had sank peacefully over his eyes and for a moment she half expected him to pop up, mischief gleaming in the yellowed honey depths of his gaze as he told her he was only kidding, that she was being silly with this little ritual.
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Post by Addie »

Adelaide Alcar was not silly. Not today. She was a girl on the precipice of change for there was no going back once one dabbled in such endeavors. But there she was and so she jumped in head first.

“E-earth,” her voice shook, prompting her to swallow the dry lump in her throat and begin again. “Steadfast Earth, giver of life, receiver of death, grant me your blessings so I may do the same in turn. Standing stone, flesh and bone, once broken, now whole.” The outer rim of the series of circles hummed with a peaceful calm and urged her forward.

“Persistent Water, grant me strength and grace and bestow upon Sandalio your life blood, the rushing stream, the deep dark ocean, at last the poetry of a soul in motion.” Addie’s body swayed side to side in time with some imperceptible rhythm, a gentle rocking that coincided with the slow growing hiss of the water’s ring, bubbling and babbling like a flowing brook.

“Invigorating Wind, I beg of you, breathe life into still lungs and imbue in me your strength to fulfill my end of this contract. Windblown fields and newfound life, pure air remove his strife.” She sucked in a deep breath, holding it within her lungs until her head spun. A slow exhale had her centering her mind as the previously aimless curls of incense smoke lifted to straight columns, trembling only with each breath Addie took. One more would complete the circle and deep in the heart of the Tower of Fire, it was only suiting that she saved it for last.

“Fierce Fire, cleanse Sandalio, mind, body, and spirit and grant me your unstoppable Will to complete this journey with him. Flickering flames, white hot fire, bring forth the steady beat of life’s desire.” The pinprick flames dancing atop the mismatched candles flared to blazing infernos around the ring, so blinding she could barely make out the still shape of the man within the circle. The elements had seen fit to grant her invocation an audience and with a soft sigh of relief, Addie pressed on.

Now came the hard part.

Addie didn’t have it in her to kill another creature but her studies indicated this should work just the same. All life, no matter how big or small, was equal in the grand scope of things and the little plant nestled in the terra cotta pot at her side had only just begun its life but it quivered with anxious energy, as if the room itself set the mundane houseplant’s leaves trembling. Her hand closed around the stem, butting right up against the damp soil that protected its roots and with a firm pull she liberated it from the dirt. A hard clench of her hand and press of the opposite had her crushing the fragile plant in her grasp until it crumpled like an accordion. She continued to squish until chlorophyll stained her hands. In her heightened awareness, she felt the last hints of life sap from the broken structure and already it wilted as she opened her palms.

“Dryhg oui.” Addie thanked the plant for its sacrifice as she sat up straight, looming over the constructed circles before her. The broken plant was dropped into a cheap ceramic mortar set in her lap and with quick grinding motions, the pestle was worked over every inch of green and brown Addie could spy until it was a pulpy mush. Only then did she lift the ornate dagger, the ebonsteel out of place among the generic ingredients she had used up until this point. It was the only item she didn’t trust to the whims of lazy manufacturer’s, having sent Kane for it only to send him away immediately after he brought it to her. Closing her eyes, she set it against her left palm and dragged it evenly across her flesh until the prickle of pain lit her nerves aflame.

“Death meets life, the veil can thin,” she squeezed her hand over the mortar until a trickle of blood topped the dead mush in the bowl. Was she really ready for this? There was no going back at this point as far as Addie was concerned. Once the plant’s guts and her dark blood were thoroughly mixed to the point the white pestle was stained in a macabre splash of emerald and crimson like Yule in Hell, Addie leaned forward through the layers of protection that shimmered around the center circle to paint with her thumb a horizontal swipe of thick paste across the dead man’s brow. Vertical lines were shakily pressed down his sallow cheeks and a diagonal slash covered his mouth to finish out the Marks.

“I summon thee Sandalio, let us begin.” She spoke the final words in a dead whisper, a quiet mix of confidence and fear weighting each syllable as it dropped from her mouth. In anticipation, she leaned even further forward until she had to crawl into the wide circle fully, lacing one hand with the man’s cold digits. Adelaide completed the final circle when her second hand met Sandy’s and the audible buzz of energy filled the air with quiet crackles and bubbling hisses.

“...Sandy… it’s Addie. Can you hear me?” Silence met her request and she squeezed his still hands carefully. Maybe he was too broken to serve as a suitable conduit for his soul. Perhaps his soul had moved on. Her teeth pinned her bottom lip in a harsh bite, grinding until she tasted blood on her tongue. “Sandy… please?”
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From the moment that he took his final breath until the second that his marble cold lips were painted with floral paste laced with blood, Sandy had no recollection of. There had been no bright light leading him into gates of gold and a city with streets paved of the same precious metal. Nor had there been shadows that raped his body of flesh and his soul to the gates of hell. He simply, to put it in the most basic of terms, blipped out of life’s radar and then blipped back in. And though his body had not yet been quite strong enough to do the soul’s bidding, the soul had it’s own way of making it’s presence known. So when that tiny doorway was opened just a tiny fraction of a fraction of a centimeter open, the soul of Sandalio slithered it’s way through like an octopus through the tiny crags and crevices in the depths of the ocean.

“...Aaaddie…” the voice was whisper soft and barely an echo of Sandy’s normal voice. “....Aaadieeee…. get him oout of here….”

“Sandy?!” Her eyes went wide. Did it work? She thought it did! It took everything she had to not freak out and somehow she reminded herself to keep hold of his hands. “Get who? Sandy, is it really you?”

There were no curtains, in this room, to blow the soft breeze that whisked around the tower from the beaches of Isle. But the candlelight flickered and the hair on Sandy’s lifeless body moved as if he were caught in a swirl of a dust devil. He could see Addie, small and so fragile on the outside, but more importantly her rigidly solid core of iron and steel.

“Sssaaandyy… Me. Get us out, Aaddiee… please!”

Addie held tightly to Sandy’s hands, not wanting to break the carefully forged connection and potentially lose him forever. She moved with the rocking breeze, willing herself to be at one with the influx of energy.

“I’ve come for you, Sandalio. I’m here. You were hurt… really bad. But I think… I think we can fix you. Do you want to come home?” She asked meekly, hoping he answered in the affirmative. His desperate pleas had her thinking he would, but you never knew.

Through his distorted and purified view Sandy could see much more than the physical picture being drawn by mother nature. Addie was a mixture of colors; red hot on her tough outer crust , deep royal blue inside where she was the most vulnerable. He could see the sadness in her mind’s eye by the sheer force of his own natural empathy, could feel her heart break. He knew how much she wanted Sandy to return to the living, know how much pain this single person heaved on their shoulders for many reasons other than her best friend passing away.

“...whill it hurt you?” He had to know if Addie were to be harmed. Sandy had done enough harming and killing when he was alive, and he regretted each and every bloody instance that came to his mind. There had always been a better way to handle the situation. And now, now he was forced to use his heart, his mind. “...I want… to go home. But not… you must not sacrifice yourself.”

“I…” She paused to consider the question. Really, Adelaide wasn’t sure. Never before had she pushed her talents to this point, never had she leapt the gap between living and dead to pluck one firmly in death’s grasp back to the land of life. “I can do it, Sandy. I think I can do it and we’ll both be okay, I promise. It… it won’t hurt me,” she hoped, “the Gods are on my side…”

It wasn’t a question of if he wanted to go from being a useless spirit that had no consequence, no meaning. The urge to breathe, to feel the cool rain on a summer day or the heat of a lover’s lips, Sandy wanted it all. So when Addie assured him that all would be well, he could see that she believed in her strength and convictions with a ferocity so pure that it bore no blemishes.

“Tell me, Addie, tell me what I must do.”
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Now came the complicated part. Addie’s voice wavered in time with the swaying flames on each candle’s apex, strong but unsteady. How did she know what she was doing was the right thing? How could she be sure that Sandy would, in fact, come back unharmed. She didn’t. There is a lot to be said about blind faith and Adelaide had it in spades.

“Shade of Sandalio del Saenz, I offer thee a second chance at life. By the power invested in me by the land, the sky, the sea and the flame,” and the state of Rhydin, “I call forth your spirit to the land of the living. We offer life contingent on three points. First,” she held up a single finger away from his hand, still maintaining her grasp though, “thou shalt not commit harm against another living being, innocent or guilty. In turn we offer our protections upon you in exchange for your agreement. Second,” another finger came up, “we cannot guarantee the state of your return, you may not be who you were before no matter how wholly you return. And third,” up came the last finger, “should you accept life, you must request pardon from the life that dies for yours today.”

Yep. Say thanks to Mister Plant. Three fingers held aloft, she looked down upon her friend, ready to act quickly in the event he acquiesced to the requests and terms laid out before him.

The soft breeze lifted the veil between life and death, and Sandy felt the first sensation since the blade had turned his brain into so much oatmeal. To him it was cool and comforting, despite the furnace that Addie currently was standing in, clutching his hands. The hands that she clutched her tangible, she could see them, feel them, and if she took a mind to do it, could even taste them. But the hands that touched her, that felt that cool breeze, they weren’t as visible. She might feel it when he reached to touch her hands that covered his, but by no means could see see or taste them.

“I promise, I shall do no physical harm, even to my enemies. I accept that I may or may not be the same man that perished at the hands of cowards, and I humbly beg forgiveness for the life that passed through the veil so that I might pass back through.”

The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention, prickling with a familiar thrum of comfort and she nodded through the words that transversed the veil between herself and her friend. Okay, Addie, you can do this.

“Standby, ninety seconds,” she called over her shoulder to her accomplices in this strangely altruistic yet deviant endeavor and nodded back to Sandy’s empty vessel. They would have to act quickly to keep him from dying an even worse death than before but surely healing what was once broken would be far easier than tearing a shade from the aether.

“As above, so below. As within, so without. Fire, air, water, and earth, I ask once more you guide my way. Center me so that he may transcend death and bridge the gap to life once more through me. By sacrifice of death, by offer of life and bound to no harm, Sandalio del Saenz, come home!” Her voice rose until it reached a sharp peak and the jolt that shook her was sure to be felt clean through the veil, the shockwaves trembling even the ground under foot. Addie’s grasp tightened, refusing to give up the anchor point even as the flood of images washed through her, played in reverse in a distorted silent movie. She saw it all. Worse yet, she felt it all, white hot pain lancing through her in the worst ways imaginable. First Hope’s heat and then the void of death, the wrenching explosion of unbearable pain through her chest, followed by the crushing headache and sickly boiling of spilled Fae child blood on undefended flesh. The sludge of hypoxia made her tilt dangerously to one side until at last she gasped through the realization that this was not her pain, it had been his. And through a high pitched yelp, she nearly screamed the final command.

“NOW!”
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The chaos that exploded deep within the Tower of Fire was nearly uncontainable, two pairs of hands working quickly over the slowly stirring man that had been but a corpse only moments before. Clicking and whirring, the titanium heart was settled in Sandalio’s empty chest cavity and within moments, Addie poured every bit of energy she had into the subtle weaving and mending of torn arteries and veins. Far more comfortable in this skillset than others, the twinkling motes of light that danced around her fingertips were hers to command and she easily guided them through Sandy’s body, working sluggish blood through his veins until the steady chug of the heart’s pistons could keep it going on its own. Battered flesh was smoothed, rips and tears were cauterized. They pulled what they could, fabricating a thin layer of muscle and taut skin over the wound, stretched thin over the no longer gaping chest wound. The slowly pinking flesh pulsed and throbbed with each beat and satisfied with her work there, Addie moved on to the big ol’ question mark of the night.

The human brain is a remarkably resilient thing, able to withstand the nastiest of injuries and still find a way to overcome and heal, compensating for damage by utilizing other lobes, filling space with spinal fluid, finding some sort of balance within the insanity. Silver had wrenched its way through the lycan’s grey matter, cleaving deep trenches where they had not been before. Addie’s hands came to rest on Sandy’s blood smeared cheeks and while Hope cleaned his chest and other injuries, Adelaide focused the entirety of concentration into undoing the damage done. It was no small feat, and even the tiniest misstep could spell doom or permanent disability for Sandalio, but she had warned him, this was a possibility. Of course she would have no way of knowing until he awoke but still she worked diligently, pouring soothing, healing energies through him while she visualized the reversal of disrupted neural pathways and otherwise ruined brain tissue. Silver’s effect would surely mean lasting damage but she was hellbent on doing everything she could. Everything. For him there was no step too far. Well obviously right? She had just violated every protocol and constitution instilled in her throughout her training. But here she was, doctoring up a newly resurrected lycan in the depths of a tower of flames.

The sudden gasp that racked Sandy’s body had Addie falling back onto her butt, eyes wide as she stared at him expectantly. He looked right back at her, the former flame that lit his eyes igniting once more and slowly… ever so slowly, he smiled.

My sweet girl, my dear sweet Adelaide…what have you done?
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