Contemplations of the Soul

A quiet night in Ank'Harel turns into something much stranger, as Varis finally puts ink to page and speaks directly to the presence sharing his mind. What follows is a tense, revealing exchange. One that pulls back the curtain on the Cerberus Assembly, the price of survival, and just how deep Sirav's control really goes.

Varis sat in his room. The city streets of Ank’Harel bustling just below, ignorant to the drow and the quill in his hand. He looked down at the blank page of his journal, knowing what he needed to do. With a soft sigh, he began to write.

“I know you will see this, and I know you will know I wrote it. I think it is time we perhaps started to talk. All I know of you is what they have told me, and the warning you have given. A warning I did not heed in my own desire to test the limits of our Dunamancy. I need to know, why can I not remember what you do, nor observe, yet you seem to always be aware?”

A pause, the dripping of the ink as the quill stilled just above the pot echoed. Drip. Drip. Drip. Finally, the quill dipped back in, and the writing resumed.

“You do not want to know what it is I have to do. The lack of memory is a kindness in and of itself. You need not worry about the things that must be done. However, perhaps there should be a bit of a conversation, though I doubt much will bear from it. I do suggest you heed me better from here on out, unless you want this corruption to claim us both.”

“Noted. Tell me, why work with the Assembly? The things they did to us… the people they made us kill… why serve them so willingly? Why be their tool?”

“I grow tired of answering this question over and over again with your companions. You would not remember, as it was I who took hold once you reached your breaking point. Once we started being useful, Ludinus and the Assembly… shifted. We came to a mutual understanding. An understanding that happened when I was forced to kill another and instead of his soul leaving, it drifted away… The same way it does with the Luxon. That all but confirmed our capture was no mere accident, but a setup by the Dynasty. The Cerberus Assembly had a Beacon. They will say it was stolen. I say it was gifted. Regardless, after that, things moved swiftly. We were taught to be better, stronger, given knowledge the Conservatory could only dream of. Now, we still share the benefits as long as we play our part, and I will.”

“You truly have been brainwashed, haven’t you. I knew there was conditioning but I didn’t expect-”

“I am going to interrupt that thought process right here and now. Do not act as if I am not aware of my own mental training. I fully am. I embrace it because it keeps us alive. It keeps your friends alive. Do you TRULY think that without that training, we would have survived this long? No. Do you think the Dynasty even cares about us? They probably think that we should just be Consecuted and urged into a new life to forget this trauma, even if we are only of that young age of 110. I will not deal with anymore of this line of questioning. I handle it enough from your friends who seem to think that simply lecturing me will change my mind on the matter. I already had to lie to them several times to get them off my back.”

“You… did? Sirav… They want to help us. They are our friends. They care so much! Why do you back away?”

“Because I know what happens to friends in this line of work, Varis. Even when this is over, if we all survive, are you really going to be happy living your life, watching them wither and die while you stay the same? In that, Jon has a point with finding immortality. Now, I suggest you bring our body into its trance so we are not useless tomorrow. Knowing your friends, we will be in for several… mishaps that we will have to fix. And for the love of gods, STOP TOUCHING RUIDIUM!”

The quill settled in the pot as the hand released it. Varis looked down at the still drying ink, before looking back out the window. He knew that what was written was mostly against what he believed in; and yet, he was just happy to finally have found a way to speak with the other person sharing his body. With a gust of wind, he blew out the lantern light that flickered gently on the desk and went to the bed. Slyan, nestled in a ball on the pillow, gave a little squeak as he approached. She quickly made room for him before she settled on his chest. Varis’s mind raced even as the trance took hold.