Novel & Art by Xabane
Novel Summary:
In the country of Tulassqus presides a woman with no plan, no clue--a witch-turned-demigod in search of her purpose. Abandoned at ascension, Drazul seeks answers from every corner of the cosmos, even inside the realm of dreams.
Within her dreams, streams of consciousness filled her mind and amongst the noise, was a voice, a song, echoing as if from a distant memory. A call soft, ethereal, close to a whisper.
Drazul finally stumbles across her first clue connected to her ascension but what will she do when she finds something, or someone, far from it?
REBORN
Age of Sunstar, approx. 7:40
Tulassqus, Drazul's Plane
In the snowy mountains of the Mire lived a lone woman in a small cottage. What the Mire did not know was that she was dangerous but they knew well enough to leave her be. Her cottage was spotted after the great fire that occurred nine centuries previous in the forest within the mountains. Her presence has endured for so long and folk knew well enough not to ask questions or linger near.
The woman was Drazul Trisca, a witch who has lived for a little over nine centuries. How she came to live so long, however, is quite a tale.
Drazul was brought up in a small village hidden within the forest of the snowy mountains of the Mire. Her coven was an evil one, one that forced her to endure and struggle. So much so, that once she turned 20 years, she inherited telepathic and telekinetic powers. Apparently this was a rare gift among the women in her family line and she was forced to keep it hidden. If her coven had known she inherited her family powers, albeit late, she would have been forced to commit evil acts on behalf of her coven. Her coven may have embraced darkness but she would not turn her back on the Mother Goddess as her brothers and sisters have.
Perhaps that is why she was gifted her ascension.
Twas the Age of Sunstar, 7:40, nine centuries ago now, when Drazul turned 27 years. The night she endured the most traumatic experience of her life. In retaliation, her power sparked a fire that started in the village, searing every single member of her coven to ashes. The fire was mirroring her anger, writhing and reaching with purpose, enacting her revenge. It was Drazul's most precious and loathed memory. Her wrath was wild, unhinged, as she was blind with pure rage, her sadness painfully pitted in her chest. The fire lapped all around her, scorching her village with ease. Her covens screamed cries of help and upon hearing them, her smile broadened wickedly, knowing their cries would go unanswered.
Their screams were almost like songs, making her restless. The flames closest to her suddenly wisped into a silhouette, taking on a burning humanoid form. It had no face and stood upright, showing reverence toward Drazul, as it proffered her its burning hand. Drazul accepted and was pulled into a dance. Her partner's flames surrounded her and she was dazzled by it. Oh how perfectly it represented her infernal emotions and her unpredictable power at the time. She realized how much she was holding herself back. It was all so utterly useless to care. This was so much more satisfying and freeing. Drazul danced naked alongside the flames that night, reaching towards the Mother. She rose high into the night, letting the flames caress her skin. Her body glistened as the moonlight landed on her skin, meeting the sparks of fire and ash flying in the air. These flames became her brilliant partner across the night sky.
She was within the flames in what others would call 'hell's embrace'. Oh to be coveted by hellfire, feeling the flames fondle her body, smothered with blood not her own, was a feeling she wish she could feel once more. The heat rose to such a peak, she could scarcely believe she was spared it's wrath. They danced beautifully as if made to become one. Drazul never felt so alive as her arms gracefully wrapped around the sky with a grace that surprised even her. She is not sure how long she danced that night. Time felt as though it paused, as if it wanted her to continue on forever. She wish that were the case.
When she managed to get a moment of clarity, she saw the devastation she inflicted and laughed. Finally, she obtained freedom through the death of her entire coven. Oh to be free and alive, her revenge delicious as the smell of death permeated the air. She was drunk on the joy of their deaths, their screams and the fleeting pangs of relief as their screams fell silent. Their silence was deafening and so, so rewarding.
The flames slowly receded towards her burning partner, who suddenly began burning blue then white. It proffered her it's hand once more, Drazul more than willing to take it. Drazul then realized that it was acting on its own, that it was not a manifestation of her power but outside of it. Even so, without hesitation, she pressed her hand onto theirs, anticipating another dance but instead, it stepped towards her. Her brilliant partner seemingly kissed her hand, then pulled her hand towards their chest, wrapping it's other hand around her waist. Drazul eyed the burning face inquisitively, trying to make out any sense of it's presence.
Then it's face leaned towards hers and she surrendered. Her partner burned into her being, encasing her body in white-hot flames, whipping about her as it embraced her body until it became a flaming tornado. With each passing few seconds, it spun faster and faster until it ended abruptly, with a sharp slice from the cold wind.
There, Drazul emerged, collapsing to her knees as she tried to regain her wits. Her hands and arms were no longer bruised and scarred but cleansed, as was the rest of her body, as if she were born anew. Her body felt stronger, feeling energy course through that she hadn't felt since she was a littlin'. She stood up, taking in her new body. She had no idea what had happened but she only knew that it was a good omen. A new beginning.
However, she later came to call it a curse as she came to find out several years later that she could not be touched by time. Her body showed no signs of aging as she remained forever 27 years. Apart from her newfound immortality, she also came to find she had inherited new powers since the fire. Ones she never knew were possible for her kind, let alone at all.
She was now a dream traveler and a guardian of the universe. Although, she is not sure if that is what is asked of her. She has yet to meet another like her, to guide her through this crucial change in her eternal life. She could not find the one behind the flames, the one she believes is the benevolent one to have granted her such grace. She merely anticipated death that night after the massacre she incurred only to be surprised by this blessing. Though, now, it is hardly a blessing in her eyes.
While she has inherited great power over dreams and space-time, she is merely existing as a powerful demigod. She assumed the role of guardian as she could not think of any other reason to be granted the power to witness the universe. On top of her other powers, she dared not attempt to use them for gain, for she wanted nothing. Now that she had her revenge and is now free, she spent the following centuries traveling and learning her newly inherited powers. She had to familiarize herself with her new role and find a new purpose to live.
Despite her otherworldly abilities, she knows she is not of true divinity. She came to the conclusion that a God was behind her. Which God? She hadn't a clue. While she trusts in the Mother Goddess, she cannot rule out other Gods. This was when she decided, five centuries since her ascension, to search for this benevolent one. To search for the truth, the meaning, behind her ascension.
It was a grueling search. She could find no knowledge about her kind, or any others that may sound like her. She studied the Gods of Tulassqus, hoping to find kin among them, that seem close to her circumstances. Though, the results came up empty. The Gods worshiped by Tulassqus only sounded like fairy tales, although, looking at herself, perhaps there is some truth to them. The real question is if they even exist, just as she does. Are they perhaps like her, aimlessly wandering betwixt the land and the universe?
The next five centuries since her search began slowly ate at her being. As she continued to find nothing, she in turn, felt nothing. Her apathy seemed to consume her. Even while courting men, women and those in-between during her travels brought up no emotion, no pleasure. It was as if she were a shell, a vessel, for powers she didn't covet.
Now, in the present, she merely continues her days looking for reasons to keep going. She seldom leaves her residence, her small cottage, in the Mire mountains. She cannot find joy in her once beloved hobbies and has trouble practicing them. Boredom has become her triumphant emotion, it's claws hooked so deep, she doesn't try anything anymore. She has become lost within herself. Nine centuries and she has nothing to show for it. Her efforts were in vain.
All she feels now is her untamed anger and hatred. Before her ascension, she was trapped in a cycle of abuse, unable to escape. Only to escape to touch the heavens, in which she found twas only another prison.
'Fate is too cruel.' Drazul thought.
SILENT LAMENT
Age of Solstice, 16:71
Tulassqus, Drazul's Plane
Drazul was sitting in her dining room, looking through her large windows that overlooked the other snow-covered mountains around her home. The windows were frosted at the edges of the window panes, the candlelight reflecting beautifully, twinkling. She held up her mug of tea to sip, her shawl around her shoulders, as she continued to be lost in thought. She stared around the dining room; the tables edge was covered in intricate carvings of moons and stars, the back of the chair sharing the pattern. The walls and ceiling were lined with plants and vines, the greenery completing the coziness of the pale wood and green cushions. The dining room was one of her more favorite parts of her house.
Which is a lot considering her whole house is her work of art. During her many years alive, she met a mortal artisan talented in many mediums and their passion was wild and everlasting. Together, they built the interior of her home. She finds herself eyeing their work quite often but is reminded constantly of her immortality.
The artisan was the last mortal she dared to meet. While she doesn't often make many friends or relationships, she finds that she can no longer handle their passing. Time has been passing far too swiftly in her eyes.
She is cursed to remain alone. Just as she has been alone since birth, she is destined to be alone in her eternal life.
Drazul sighed, taking her mug with her as she sauntered towards the sitting room. The beautiful stone fireplace lit up as she sat in her armchair and made herself comfortable. The fireplace was made of stone, carved to imitate that of a tree trunk with showering moss and flowers. Her armchair and sofa were rustic, their frames made of dark wood and engraved with painted golden leaves sprinkled throughout, the cushions burgundy. A slab of wood stripped from a large tree trunk was made into a low table, the rug under it maroon with black floral patterns intertwining. She placed her mug down on the low table, leaning into her chair.
Her thoughts lingered awhile before she slowly began dozing off as she watched the fire. Once she finally fell asleep, her dreams enveloped her.
Even when she sleeps, she is awake. Dreams are merely another plane thanks to her powers. In this plane, she can travel as much and as far as she wants. Here, everyone's dreams can be seen. Some are moving pictures, others are words, some just sound and then there are nightmares. She calls it the Dream Web, since dreams appear and overlap; they come to be in one place. Since the plane is made from dreams, she starts her travels first in her own dream. Other dreams appear seamlessly as if apart of her own. For example, if Drazul were to start in an overgrown village, the outskirts of the village could appear as a desert, meaning that was the end of her dream and the beginning of another.
This is why she coined the term Dream Web.
Out of all dreams, Drazul loathes nightmares. Many nightmares are manifestations of one's life events, many of which are traumatic. Her anger easily soars inside nightmares. The first few nightmares she witnessed were just that. That was the first time she found that she could exit another's dream and appear before the host, back in reality. During her younger years in immortality, her anger was still palpable. She murdered many on behalf of the hosts. Some did not appreciate her interference, but she couldn't care less.
'Scum exist to be purged.' Would be her words in parting.
She continues to do so now, as purging evil and worse tends to be the only satisfaction she can obtain currently.
Although, tonight is different.
Drazul traversed her dream in search of another, only to find that the next dream was sound. Twas song that was carried into her dream. However, the direction in which this song presented itself to her was a red thread that was on the ground. This was the first time that she had seen a seemingly empty dream. This dream was pitch black. The other end of the red thread was leading into it, song being the only guide within. Drazul felt uneasy.
For the first time in centuries, she sensed another's power.
However, she cannot afford to miss this chance. The first clue in five centuries has finally appeared and she will seize it.
Drazul walked briskly towards the red thread only for it to rise and lunge at Drazul. Drazul, taken aback, attempted to dodge but failed as the thread looped toward her and around her left wrist, tangling itself several times over before falling limp. Drazul, dazed, stared at the thread in disbelief.
She cannot determine if this is fate forced upon her or if the thread was merely revealing what has already been there.
Nonetheless, she followed the thread into the darkness.
As she walked for what seemed like ages, she found a seam. Light shone through it as it glowed brighter and brighter as she approached.
"Impossible." Drazul breathed. She pulled at the seam to reveal exactly what she expected. She stepped through and found herself exiting the Dream Web and into the dimension that holds the Universe intact.
She called this dimension The Depths. The Depths consisted of large spheres of water cradled by clouds, scattered throughout, unending. They were larger than Drazul and were suspended in space, stars and galaxies betwist it all beneath her feet. Above and in front of her was a pink sky, the stars still present, not knowing where they belong. It was a place so alien to Drazul; she didn't like lingering here and only did so when she desired to visit other planes. Each sphere was a different world of her own, with their own different country of Tulassqus on its own Earth.
However, what brought her here was the thread, still leading to its source within The Depths. She was on alert now, because she realized the song never ceased. She has no idea what to expect except to be prepared. She continued to follow the thread all through The Depths, gliding between each cradled sphere before reaching the one she was searching for. The thread was hanging from the sphere, water lapping in motion as Drazul stared at it. The clouds, which Drazul uses to understand the status of a plane, were black. This means that this plane is enduring a disaster of sorts.
Drazul waved her hand over the sphere, the water calming as it slowed enough for her to look within. The spheres of water work as a window and door into another plane. Looking in, Drazul could see that the disaster was plague. She threw up her hood and stepped into the calm water.
Age of Glory, 10:20
Tulassqus, New Plane
She stayed afloat in the sky and found herself overlooking an abandoned part of a thriving city. She was looking at the slums and it was empty, showing no signs of any who live near. The thread around her wrist was shaking as she was closer to her target now. She flew downward, following the thread to a worn shack.
The song was louder now but in reality, she knew it was silent. A lament only she can hear. To hear a tragic voice, a whisper, stretch so far as to call for her, entering her dream and defying the rules of time and space, just reaching for her. She has a feeling this was not the benevolent one but someone else. Whoever this is, they are desperate and experiencing great pain. They, like her, possess similar powers. How else can she explain what the fuck is happening.
As she approached the shack, she was surrounded by abandoned buildings, forced to be empty against their owners' will. She pulls her gaze away from her surroundings back to the shack and sees it's broken door hung open. She entered the shack, snapping her fingers to produce a pink flame that would hang beside her. As it slowly revealed the contents of the shack, Drazul was immediately hit with an awful stench.
'Seems death has come.' Drazul thought passively.
She noticed a corpse of a woman on a makeshift bed at the corner of the shack. Drazul turned away to keep looking, trying to follow the thread but it was sprawled and tangled throughout the shack. The song was quieter, now a real whisper. She looked around until she realized there was a hunched clump on the floor near the makeshift bed. It was under torn cloth and rags but the thread was also there. Drazul sauntered towards the clump, kneeling down to move the rags aside.
As she did, it revealed a child.
There it is. The source of the lament.
Drazul sighed, realizing the child's song was their last goodbye to the world, cursing it for what it had done. The child was beckoning death, readily, eagerly. Odd, though, as the host is still alive.
The child was no more than 13 years at most, she guessed. The plague does not pursue them, so why are they begging death? Why was she brought here? She lowered her pink flame to see the child's face clearly.
The child slowly opened their eyes, adjusting to the light. The poor thing couldn't even lift their head properly to look up at Drazul. They weren't frightened. Drazul thought not, considering the circumstances. Drazul stares for a moment before she spoke,
"You chose to die yet you did not. Why, child, do you cling to life when you turned to kiss death?"
The child merely stared. Malnourished, exhaustion and worse told Drazul that she would not get a word. Drazul attempted to read the child's mind but it was far too quiet to make anything out. Every sound her mind was making was nothing but quiet mumbling she couldn't make out.
Drazul hadn't expected to see a child. Nine centuries passed without any irregularities until now. Drazul concluded that she wasn't about to let this child fade away. even if the child were to resent her because of this, it is but a trifle in comparison to the bigger picture.
Without more thought, Drazul spoke,
"To live, I must take from you that which you hold dear."
Drazul's eyes began to glow as she began to perform a ritual. She drew symbols in the air, chanting silently into them, as they glowed a hot pink with each chant. They burned brilliantly before she blew at them, the symbols riding her breath towards the child.
The symbols hovered, combining to become what appeared to be a dagger. It fluttered above the child's face, twinkling a moment before piercing the child's right eye. The child screamed, their voice hoarse and shrill. The child writhed in agony as the rituals magic was digging out the eye from their skull. Drazul was startled. She didn't anticipate the child's beloved possession was her own right eye. While curious, it is a small sacrifice to pay to restore their health enough to save them.
'I am sorry, child. You are far too important to let wither away.'
Drazul performed a ritual that is meant to help the recipient stay alive by taking something beloved. It is intentionally vague but to think the child's beloved thing was their right eye. While the child may have power, it was insanely weak compared to Drazul's. They were also not touched by immortality, seeing how close to death the child appeared. She had no choice, her hands were tied. Quite literally.
The child was panting, their breathing ragged and uneven. The magic held the eye above them for a moment before being whisked away to the palms of Drazul's hands. Without a single thought, her hands crushed the eye, causing a bright purple fire to burst from within her grasp.
All that remained of the eye twas a purple flame. Drazul motioned her palms towards the child, guiding the flame to them. The flame took its rightful place within the now-hollow socket of their right eye. The child was stunned, their body twitching. Drazul is sure they are trying to process what is happening but unlike Drazul's past, they will not be alone. She is here and she will guide them just as she wished someone had done for her. Drazul looked down at the child and removed her hood, proffering her hand,
"Come, you curious thing. shall escort you across the clouds.”
THE CHILD
Age of Solstice, 16:70
Tulassqus, Drazul's Plane
As soon as Drazul touched the child, the red thread faded away. Drazul stared long and hard before slicing the air in front of her with her hand. She opened a tear that revealed her cottage in the Mire mountains. She turned around and slowly began lifting the child into her arms.
Just as she was about to step through the tear, the child suddenly tugged at Drazul's hood. Drazul looked at the child as the child pointed towards the corner where the bed lie. Drazul was surprised the child was still conscious, but she believes the child is unaware of it. Drazul looked at the corpse then back at the them,
"I will bring her, but you shall cross first."
The child paused then slowly pointed at the bed again. Near the corpse was a shawl, or perhaps a scarf. Drazul understood. Drazul knelt down enough for the child to reach for the scarf and to allow them a moment before standing back up. Drazul turned back to the tear and finally stepped through, the Mire mountains in the midst of dealing with a light blizzard. Drazul glided quickly to her front door, bursting it open as she quickly put the child down onto the floor in front of the fireplace. The blizzard wisped around the sitting room. Quickly, she waved her hands at the fireplace, making it come to life, the warmth quickly filling the room.
She turned to go back outside, back into the tear, closing the door behind her.
Drazul stared at the corpse before undoing her cloak, thinking of what to do next once she returns. Carefully wrapping the corpse in her cloak, she lifted the corpse using her telekinetic powers, the corpse following behind her as she stepped through the tear. She placed the corpse down outside her cottage a moment to allow her to close the tear. Afterwards, she lifted the body again, taking it to an icy glade behind her cottage.
The icy glade was home to several tombstones that were well-maintained and upright. Drazul forcefully created a hole in an untouched portion near the others, carefully placing the woman's corpse inside. She did not know this woman, but this woman raised a possible witch powerful enough to summon her. Drazul buried the body with care before marking it with a makeshift dreamcatcher before returning back inside the cottage.
Drazul shook the snow off her body as she returned to the child's side. The child was warmer, thankfully, but only a little. Drazul prepared a warm bath for the child, whom she found to be a young girl. She helped wash the poor girl, gently so as not to cause any bruises on her frail body. She also spent awhile fixing up the girls' hair because it was awful and matted. Drazul was forced to cut it all off, her hair becoming a messy pixie cut as a result. She also spent a lot of time taking care of lice and other mites living in her hair. It was a while before Drazul could put the child to rest and recover.
Drazul put the girl into a dark bedroom filled with items not her own. This room was the guest room she used for every mortal who entered her life and left their mark. Opposite the doorway, the bedroom had tall, narrow windows with stained glass at their peak. The stained glass shaped the phases of the moon in a complete cycle across the wall opposite the room's entrance. Adjacent to the windows, left of the door, was the canopy bed, draped in thick, dark curtains decorated with stars that glittered. The bed was decorated with what seemed like too many cushions and a thick, warm blanket. Beside it was a desk, untouched for many years, gathering dust, same as the rest of the furniture within the room. Opposite the bed were a few tall shelves packed with books of many topics, including papers and old notes. Following the shelves, towards the corner reaching the windows, were canvases and covered paintings slanted against the wall, an easel beside them.
Before she placed the child here, however, Drazul cleaned the room completely, removing all the dust, making sure the sponges dancing across the windows scrubbed every bit of dirt that caked on in all that time. Her powers had many uses, and this was one of their conveniences. Finally, after all was done, she placed the child onto the bed, covering her using the canopy curtains. Drazul gently tapped the curtains and the stars that lined them began to glow and twinkle faintly, mimicking a night sky.
Now that the child was settled, Drazul washed up herself. It took a few hours to care for the girl, and she was starting to feel the fatigue from the sudden work. Drazul tidied up and moved into the kitchen, pulling ingredients out to prepare a stew. The ingredients lined the stone counters, as pots and ladles floated above her. The counter paneling was engraved with depictions of the Mother Goddess among the stairs along the sides, while the counter tops were smooth green and gold marble. The cabinets were a pale wood, with patterned carvings of moons and stars, sharing that of the dining room, along the edges of their doors. Drazul began getting to work as the ingredients were being chopped on their own as she was focused on brewing the broth to a perfect flavor.