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The Ruins of Our home [Shadows and Light coven grounds]



 
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Kyon-gel


Location: the ruins of Shadows and Light covenhouse



Time: Witching Hour



 



 The coven had fallen into disrepair many years ago. Trees had fallen and the weeds were overgrown. The once beautifully arranged grounds now lay desecrated in the many years without the protection of its former clan-members. The Gardens, in particular had remained standing but were long since now beyond the control of a groundskeeper. They were alive, more than that of their nature, and within secrets remained. Kept hidden deep within the thorny mess was spot frozen in time, broken the collision of powerful magicks, maintained by the last moments of love. A place drenched in the energy of one horrid sin. He expected to find his own nightmares…



 Outside the archway stands a figure wrapped in deep robes whose face is concealed behind a pale, featureless mask, barely leaving slits for the eyes. Since sundown the figure had remain there, facing inward to the garden, seeming frozen in place, and yet muttering to themselves. No mundane persons should ever happen across this spot, but in case they did, a field of illusions awaited their feeble minds that would wind them away… it was placed long ago, painstakingly, over many months, consisting of runic stones buried in the hearts of several enchanted trees, as well as the scrawling geomantic structures of crystal… suffice to say, the weakened being standing in the garden was not the one who protected this place… no any more.



 Dripping from the otherwise still robes was an inconstant trickling of dried soil, wood pulp and the occasional insect. The air around them lingered a fine mist of fungal spores dancing weightlessly around the body, and with the right eyes, it was in the plain to see the energy being gathered was off weaker than even the unkept enchantments of a dead circle of witches. A powerful sorceress and her flower-loving husband, lovers of beauty arcane and mundane, teachers to many, fighters against the oppression of the Elders… just echoes of the past. Nothing more was left… or so it seemed. With a deep inhalation of breath the spores around him with drawn inside and the hooded-figure’s posture relaxed. He was able to fool the runes into recognizing his essence as a legitimate member of the guild. It would be a pain to be forced fight with his own security measures...


March 02, 2019 12:12 am

Kyon-gel

Tentatively, the hooden figure stilled themselves after a series of coughing that came into a fit, then readjusted their robes. The length of the robes behind, but pushed frontward, leaving footprints of crumbling dust and the occasional confused insect scrambling to find cover again. He entered the Garden, the place of his he first emergence to the Realm, the location of his Grove… the place of the marriage to his partner and friend and the creation of a Coven… the place of his wife’s death… the place of his exit from the realm so many years ago. His first life here was tied to this place. His magick was tied to this place. His body remained inside, as well as several other elements the figure would need.

First navigating the labyrinth, Kyon had was met with memories playing images. So many fond moments. Eternities in themselves, each second of bliss filled with remnant energy. Before they married, they spoke of protecting each other and our families, having a safe place where those brave few who rebelled against the will of the Elders could practice their arts. A school as much as a home… and that require a place of power… and it required sacrifices. Whispers pass him, the mask blanking any expression this creature might have had. Through a thin mist float the heaviness of the air grew upon him.

There…

Approaching the edge of the cobble stone path and field of dead flowers, blocked of sunlight by overgrown hedges of gnarly oak trees, unguided by their Keeper. Near the center the pulse did grow. He could nearly see her standing there, waiting for him. He’d kept her waited, yet again...

Pulling off his robes to reveal the tree-like flesh overgrown with fungal structures, it body shifts unnaturally, flakes of bark and bits of rotted wood pulp and other grit falling from its body like sand from a broken hourglass. Each movement sounded of the crunching of dead leaves and of groan of an old trunk swaying in a violent storm. Each mushroom body pulsating and spreading spores in small puffs of white mist, Kyon tugged at his legs, forced to yank upon the unresponsive roots to free them from the soil, his nature desperately clinging to the earth, seeking nutrition in a futile effort to regenerate his body. Worthless wastes of energy, his body was crumbling apart, and no amount of sunlight would aid him now. He need something else to ease these symptoms while he worked upon a solution. He needed something for the mycelium to chew through instead of his flesh, something tastier than him.

He needed Ceangal… the body of his former self, now another withered-looking young tree definitely existing to spite the cruel entropy of the Realm. This was the place where he failed. In every sense, he was overtaken by the unconscious self-infliction of an illusion… Their moments played in unrelenting detail, bring more of his shatter remembrance into focus. She was to help him pass… but that was not what happened. It was supposed to be a peaceful transfer at the hand of his beloved wife, his body and soul ready to move on to another realmspace in quest for experiences unavailable in the confines of the reality. He had every reason to go… only, something else within him made choices, something else within was hesitant to die… it a moment of pure instinct his powers reflected her clean stroke into a warping of reality and in the blink of an eye, he found he falling into his arms... while Kyon was forced to wait out his pain in grim detail.
March 04, 2019 04:58 pm

Kyon-gel

... Beyond the fading visions of his sharpest pain, where and when he was saddest, the misty field held only one tree in the circular clearing. The thorny branches spread out in all directions, attempting to protect its center from discovery, but reaching out with a sleeve Kyon bashed the dried twigs away, cracking towards the trunk. What was reveal was a face staring back, its detail artistically rendered in paper-thin bark peeling from the surface which was sculpted with great care. But there was no color, no contrast, and no life in those eyes.

An empty vessel, still and silent in this forgotten place.

The softness of its features, in spite of its pained expression, mocked Kyon. A trembling from beneath the ground, churned the soil as tiny white tendrils wrapped the tops of the exposed tree-roots and squeezed in. The white mask lifted on its own, like a maw, revealing is face against that of the treeform corpse of Ceangal the Spring Witch, releasing a heavy spray of spores, creating a cloud around the free-standing tree, and held his place almost caressing the trunk of his own corpse in an intimate moment.

To eat his old self, regaining what was left.

Growing at an accelerated rate, the fungi could easily be mistaken for an animal, looking squirmy and fleshy, and tearing through the wood like a caterpillar through a leaf. Not only for the outside-in, but from the inside the organism invaded the core and worked outward, softening the wood to rot and absorbing its nutrients. Like his body, soon this tree was also crumbling apart from its base, held in place mostly but the fungal roots now as mushroom cover the surface, finally removing Ceangal’s handsome face from sight.

Soon, it would all be erased from the Realm.
March 05, 2019 09:10 am

Kyon-gel

Covered and consumed, the half-dead organism was soon crushed under its own weight, decomposing with the virulent guidance of the witch’s tainted essence. Once a divine creature, he was now cursed to his state by the sins of the past, and discontent grew upon him like the mushrooms bursting from the surfaces of his soil-grasped body. This was a feast a old magick, the consumption of oneself - even if it was only a piece - it was one more than he had.

The extraneous mass reduced to the infused material elements, and crushing the rest between exhalations of heavy carbon dioxide floating with spores, and the dried out and depleted wood-dust. Tearing the roots out like a crustaceans from his shell, Kyon ate of his corpse greedily and to the last, his own roots seeking out the final traces of his flesh.

Another deep breathe from in and around his body, came as a pleasured sigh, though distorted and inhuman, and the creature was feeling much more their former self... but their goals had not yet been completed and turning back to the stain of dead grass in the otherwise lush meadow, he felt a shrieking anger...
March 05, 2019 09:51 pm

Kyon-gel

The stunted meadow grasses fluttered in the sweeping wind, signalling a change in the enchanted woods. His actions had not gone unnoticed, and while he was able to mask his presence to gain entrance, now that he had disturbed the land, and aroused its sentience, Kyon felt the Gardens shifting and preparing to correct the intrusion. He shook his body with force, dropping the excess of dust and used up soil, rocks and bugs that had been scooped up. The mycelium had grown, filling in more fo the empty space of his humanoid form, and moving the roots around into a shape more readily poised for spontaneous movement. The energy gathered already was making his structures supple and strengthening their connections, a small step closer of the lithe form he once possessed. He could feel the ache deep in these filaments, a sensation informing him on these new limits.

It was not a much as he had hoped but there was no choice or reason to consider it further… now was the time to empty one’s self. He detected, through the ground, the pounding of footsteps with crunching gravel and crushing blades of grass, knowing it meant ‘the Leshy’ were on their way. They had surrounded the field and now broke] through the misty stillness, bursting into his visual field as the ground-bourne cloud fell inward cloaking the central meadow, their small Vine-wrapped forms, like short feral humanoids.
March 06, 2019 01:11 pm

Kyon-gel


Readying his stance, experience was on his side. These creatures were homunculi of plant-life, and he felt sadness that he would need to destroy them to complete his To-Do list. He saw one coming in first, and feeling there distance and weight through the gracious grasses, Kyon prepared to take them down…





He swung in to plant the leader to the ground, but was instead struck in the back as another of the Leshy slammed against him, throwing of his footwork. His feet felt unresponsive and his strike was grappled by two more of the incoming creatures. Their thorns gripped into him, their vines bashing wildy and attempting to strangle the man. Already, another of the uncontrolled homunculi dug into the soil beneath the intruder and open the ground. They terrible streams sounded of anger and loneliness, the acids of their glowing maws spilling across Kyon’s robes, burning the layers away.





Shrieking with pain, the foremost mycelia cringed, shrinking his form. Bit by bit Leshy pushed his body into the earth, surrounding him in corrosive agents and noxious gasses, eating away at the roots quite effectively, clamouring with joy as they smashed his newly reformed body into pieces.


March 06, 2019 08:47 pm

Kyon-gel

((This new post formatting thing is really bad... like reeeeally bad.))


The clammer came to end abruptly with the movements of the Leshy slowing down as curious intonations began. A single small white mushroom began to fruit out of the head of the half-buried golem. They chimed inquiry at first, but soon it was an alarm that rang from the fibrous bellows. Then another and another, eating their way through the supple plant-flesh, as discoloration spreading through the creatures.
Gasping at their own skins, the creatures panicked and tried to run. Choked from the inside, they wheezed and they groaned and eventually each stumbled and fell, became still and quite. Not just the Leshy but little by little the discoloration spread to the grasses and flowers, through the soil the corpses now touched and from the pile of crushed witch’s body, twisting the already unkempt garden dark with his curse.

The stillness held another moment before the landscape underwent a smooth transition, with wispy-thin stalks with little white caps, opening like tiny umbrellas. Spiraling winds brushes the treetops as the clouds finally gathered together, coming down in droplets of misting rain.

Under the crackling of thunder, Kyon’s body was reinforced and sewn back together by new roots, eating the shredded materials too damaged to be regenerated. His bones were compressed tree-fibers puppet-ed by fungi, and once the pieces were snapped together and soon Kyon was pulling himself out of the ground.

“...ooooOOOOOOOwwww!!!” Gasping further with no more breath, remnant particles were expelled from his lips, retching as he pulled his ragged form to his feet.
March 07, 2019 11:48 am

Kyon-gel

The rain soaking into the soil, washing down his roots as the faceless fungal abomination gathered its senses and reached for the white porcelain mask securing it back into position. He found it a comfort more than he thought to have a face. He even sometimes missed the senses of humans… so limited, but beautiful in there way. The robes wrecked, the muddy specter collected their thoughts. Moving toward the area of dead grass, Kyon saw even the mushrooms avoided this spot. Grabbing a Leshy corpse, the witch torn off the head, turning the gourd over to retain the reserve of acidic fluids and with a hard shove, stuffed the rest of the plant into his torso. His tiny roots opening to collect the material, it was sunk within his chest and out of sight.

Kneeling down at the edge of the roughly spread stain of withered grass, Kyon could taste her blood and the power it still had. She died here, and though it was only temporary, the emotion was real, the betrayal was real, the anger was real. The power of it, therefore, was quite real.

“Fleta... I loved you.”

Whispering under his breath and towards the Leshy-skull, Kyon splashed the watered-down acid over the area and let it soak it and burn itself out. Placing each arm-stump down and extending his roots, Kyon drank from the ground, seeking any remain trace of the blood she shed that fated day. A dark pulse surround him in the dark and rain and even the crackle of thunder faded away. Like tiny gems, these small crystalized remnants of Fleta’s lost power were now gathered.
March 07, 2019 10:05 pm

Kyon-gel

Dragging upon the roots as he lifted, his upper body slumped back as he pushed up upon his knees, flopping to a stand like a marionette with a few loose strings. Kyon was more like a drunk puppeteer, drawing upon an increasing control to tighten his threads. Feeling this essence join with his own was something of a conflicting experience; like that of her warm kiss mixed with the memories of being impaled with multiple spears.

... talk about a BAD Breakup...

When he stepped again, Kyon could feel the ease of motion he was gaining with each integration of these fetters. His footstep through the dying field, absorbed the pieces of the Leshy as he passed their broken bodies. Pieces of his old flesh one and all... it struck him hard that this was not the first time he had to kill his own children. An awful thought, another sinful and dark moment in the Realm, it spawned a horrible-beautiful-hideous memory. “... what was her name...?” Such a terrible thing… to not remember the name of your Rapist. “Had to kill her... had no choice...” Least he did not eat that spawn, he thought in jest - a coping mechanism for the terror of this memory.

The burst of energy subsiding like the passing of a deep ocean swell, he felt exhausted again. Slowing his steps to a subtle, left-leaning limp, Kyon moved away from the clearing, watching as his fungal bloom continued to spread at a crawling pace. In time, they would strangle and kill what remained of this his… no Ceangal’s garden. Good. He thought. Let us be done with this place.
March 08, 2019 01:18 am

Ronan Boru

*  It  had  been  years since  the fire  witch  had  thought  of  Shadows  and  light  or  even  been  back  to  the  grounds .He had other  things  to   focus  on  then  the  dead and  decaying  past lives and the dead  friends  as  well from  its  walls. Time  and   nature  did  what  it  always  did  in  case  of  forgotten  buildings  it  claimed  them  back. The  gronds  were  over groun with   weeds  and  thte  garden  he  could  smell  was   rotting  already  as  well.  Ronan  sighs . It  had once  been  a   place of light  and   life  but   it's  time  and   ideas  were  past in  to  the  winds of  time and  change like  so many  other  great  covens of  old.

Ronan  stops for a   second  picking  up  a  familar scent  on  the  winds. He  wondered  how  long  it  would of  been   if  he  hadnt  of  come  back  if  Ronan  would of  .  Ky was  once his  friend  Ceangel  but  there  was a  change a  notable  difference  in  him since  his  return here under  this  new  name  and  face.  Ronan   would  let  the old  memories of  the  spring  witch  in  his  garden  here  fade like  others . He  starts  to  walk  away leaving  the  man  to  do  as  he  wished.*

March 08, 2019 09:58 am

Kyon-gel

The Rain and Thunder continued on...

Kyon began to walk back through the large labyrinth of vines and thorns. The gardens of Shadows and Light were overgrown from the beginning, a grand display of flower arrangements and exotic topiary. The seven trees of the coven’s perimeter were enchanted with rituals of love, private moments, to bless the land in the days before they broke ground. They danced to the music in their heads, they howled to the moon and writhed in the sunlight. They swam in a spring they drew together…

Kyon halted, and then turned their steps at an intersection, heading towards the stone building. “Yes… the waters next.” They wondered how many of their secrets were left behind here. Pieces of their soul left behind, actions filled with emotion and intent, these places held the resonance of his life - the countdown to his death - and they were beginning to react.

Within the thick bushy walls he felt the shift, the labyrinth changing to confuse him as their the branches thicken subtly in preparation to entangle Kyon’s body. Only the basest of instincts seemed to remain of the once intelligent creations, using the cover of the pouring rain to target the intruder like stalking animals rather than the organized squad they were trained to be.

… at least there is Something to be thankful for...

There was a screech of inhuman quality from the beasts they had yet to reveal themselves… they felt it burn from the inside as the area around Kyon raised with a shimmering luminescence pushing outward as a slow-moving acidic cloud, tearing through the base stem of the hedges. The crackling and snapping of the plants leaning over and falling out from their proud stance, and are composted in the lowly cloud burning away the area into minerals. It cleared the obstruction in his way, and across the open grounds Kyon could see Ronan beginning to leave.

“Little help here, Ronan?!”

Behind him the topiary garden was coming, beasts of abnormal arrangements would would once turn themselves into new shapes to please the coven, waiting for their chance to defend them against a foe. He wondered how much longer he has made them wait.
March 08, 2019 11:57 am

Ronan Boru

"You  created  them   and  you   mean  to  tell  me   you  cant  stop  them?"

*   The  fire  witch  looks  at  him  then  to  the   plants .  He  make a   fire  ball  and  tosses  it  watching  it   turn  in  to  a    hailstorm  of  fire  and   destroy  any   living     plant  clear  to  the  roots*

"You  arent  who  you  used  to  be   Kyron and  the  world  has  changed  since  this  place. I  am  not  going to  act  as  if  I  understand  any  of  this  with you.  Ciaran  has  told  me   that  when  you  are around he  smells  death  only from  you. You  need  to   do  and  destroy  what  you  need  to  here  of  your  past I  cant  change  that and  I  am  not  even  going to  try. I  will  h ow  ever  protect my  family like  Ciaran  if  need  be from  even  some one  I  once  called a friend should  they  walk  the  dark side. You  keep  yor  secreats Kyron."

*Ronan  looks  to   him  *

March 08, 2019 02:28 pm

Kyon-gel

Even in the rain, the flames brought a screaming end to the charge of the former minions. Cringing from the light, Kyon turned away from the fire, smoke and steam. Ronan spoke out, in a manner Kyon could only take as aggressive, having some sort of problem. It seemed the surprises were finished for now, perhaps this was a good time to talk.

"I am unsure why you would expect to understand without asking..." He had attempted to conceal his personal problems from the more sensitive members of the coven out of privacy and respect for their senses... but apparently that had lead his friend to jump to a dismissive stance.

Lifting his arms, Ronan could clearly see his new body, a mass of whte threadlike mycelium roots. Formerly Ceangal was a tree. "Ciaran was observant... after all I did return from the dead... but what he smelled was the rooting of my former body..."

The mask held no expression, but the Kyon's voice had become clearer strengthen by the reclaiming the memories of himself, sounding fulling a tone as to question what was really happening here.

"You have questions, Ronan... We were friend once at least... ask them."
March 08, 2019 02:49 pm

Ronan Boru

"Are  you  going  Dark and  aare  you  a  threat  to  my  son  and  family now?"

*   Ronan  knew  he  sounded  aggessive  but  he  learned   many   times over   showing   fairness a nd  compassion  more  often  got   the  ones  you  were  trying to  keep safe  killed  right along  with  you.  He  had  learned  from  those  mistakes.*

"Are  you still Ceangel soewhere  in  there or  something  darker?"

*  The Irish  witch  steps  back  and  looks  at  the  man his   eyes a  dark  violet  color. He   closes  them  and  they  return  to  his  normal  blue.*

"Make  no  mistake  you  harm them I   will  not  be   as  kind  as  you  once  remmebered  me. My  family  and   coven  mean  the  world  to  me  and  I  will defend  them  if  needed.I  will not lose  my  son  again  to  anyone becaasue  he  thinks  he  cant  talk  to me."

March 08, 2019 03:05 pm

Kyon-gel

"You wound me... but I will not take offense." His arms come down, turning hims back a moment to reach stumpy-arm root outward toward the dying fires, he pulled charred leaves and ash through the air towards him, weaving them together to form a cloak around his body and pulled the hood over his head. As he return to face Ronan, he had stalled a moment to regain propriety, but what could he say to the man that with only emotional concerns and no reasons for either the hostility or suspicion.

"No…" It was almost all he had, but only because of how ridiculous it sounded to Kyon. “... I am not a threat to you… or my Godchildren. I have not threatened nor plotted against your family or friends... I thought, until this, that you and I were friends...” He stepped forward toward Ronan in a non-threatening posture. “You speak of darkness, but subjective judgements are for substance... so… what has my presence threaten?”
March 08, 2019 03:26 pm
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