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| Action Id: 3616 | Crisis: | Participants: Duarte and Mirari | |
| Status: Resolved | Submitted: July 22, 2019, 3:26 a.m. | Public: True | GM: Puffin |
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Action by Duarte
A beleaguered mind left slow and wasted by sleep deprived nights and hunger pangs for the better part of a year yet clings to hope as if it were the last soft glow of a flickering flame in a labyrinth. One wherein any false move, any breath, might extinguish such a thing and leave one alone and adrift in the sticky dark.
Duarte's seclusion was by choice, but what choice did he have? And now his visits to the shrines are motivated by what? Self preservation? What is there to preserve? An obligation to his County? The one he didn't want? The final trap Belladonna laid to ensure he could never break faith with House Pravus?
How many times had he poked at the abyss? With how much smug disregard for the warnings? He'd survived near evisceration, hadn't he? Didn't he, by charm and persistence, befriend Mirari, a former most dangerous foe? And hadn't he earned Belladonna's ire for it? And didn't he earn the favor of House Velenosa to the consternation of House Pravus, on the heels of accepting a patronage from House Thrax - also to the consternation of those close to his duchess? And didn't he make the crassest Culler his own protege for a time? Did he not also patron the most controversial scholar? And every would-be scandal he slipped right through. Doing exactly what he wanted - getting exactly what he needed - and not once being thwarted or even called out.
But life has a way of catching one out, Duarte thinks, and this curse - this affliction - is the mit.
So what is there that motivates Duarte in his existing state of resignation to this sudden onset: the culmination of everything a life like his is owed? An unsworn oath to The Dream, perhaps? A pact made before birth against a command that he survive? Who knows. Who cares?
Whatever his motivation, Duarte is visiting the shrines as part of his own cleansing journey, to rid his spirit and body of abyssal taint foolishly acquired (clue 2871). And indeed, part of that journey - a small part - is for him to conduct his own Rite of Cleansing for the greater good. For the purpose of the primum we all share, in which we live, that is us - is everything.
So when the calendar falls on the 13th day, and the sundial approaches the thirteenth hour, Duarte breaks from his meditations in the Shrine of the Sentinel and invites another to watch, as he was shown, the cleansing ritual.
In the courtyard of his under construction (which construction has halted) estate, Duarte creates thirteen points of light with thirteen candles - one for each God - and submits to them each an item of significance.
But for Duarte, perhaps the ritual is different. He is to sacrifice 13 items that are meaningful and profound, but this - to him - does not necessarily mean that he must sacrifice items of particular fondness.
And while the items he selects are all meaningful in some regard, there are a few that perhaps stand out more than others:
To Limerance he burns letters he kept from years ago when he had Lianne's fondness. Whatever misunderstandings have occurred, he prays his steadfastness in honoring his oaths to her are recognized by the Gods, if they are not seen by his liege herself.
To Vellichor he burns pages from the file he's kept on Legate Bianca - those pages which contain the most damning items he'd learned of her. No one would care now, anyway, but he longs for her friendship in these lonely days and is regretful that he ever kept these.
To Gild he burns an old hat. One he wore frequently when he was a commoner. He prays that whatever he's done, at least this one sees how he's amassed wealth, improved his station - by hook or by crook - but has also given back dearly. The fact is he's not a commoner any more, and longing for "that life" is needlessly silly.
To the Thirteenth he burns a slice and a trimming from the vines that have grown and are embedded in his flesh. Irreverent, perhaps, but not theologically uninformed. Duarte's 'gift' to the 13th is not a 'gift' but a reflection of one. He's casting to the flames that which has been given to him.
And to Aion, the dreamer, Duarte burns a slip of paper upon which he had written 'the future'. Someone dunk the man in shallow water already.
Action by Mirari
Mirari arrives at the time and the place. She is there to observe so she does not interfere nor contribute. She simply observes and tries to focus on the ideas, the thoughts, the things he is putting out into the world.
Result
Thirteen days. Thirteen baths. Thirteen prayers. Thirteen nights. Thirteen gifts to each of the Gods. Thirteen offerings of action. And on the thirteenth day, in the thirteenth hour, Duarte starts his Rite of Cleansing, as the culmination of all of this.
Through it all, Mirari watches him, observes as he sacrifices an old hat to Gild, bespeaking letting go of his longing for an easier life. She watches as he burns pages of a file on Legate Bianca, with the yearning for that old, dear friendship burning in his heart. She watches as he prays to Limerance and offers letters from a time when Lianne was fond of him, and re-pledges himself to faithfulness and steadfastness in honoring his oaths to her.
With each sacrifice, he feels stronger. He breathes a bit easier. With each moment he feels better - he regrets his smug, callous ways. His courting of scandal. He feels stronger, better, cleaner. He stands taller, as the ritual slowly comes to a close, but it's while the flames are still burning that the courtyard suddenly darkens.
"You stand balanced on a knife's point. Cleansed of Blight by the Gods you hardly believe in. Oathed to those who serve the Darkness." Indeed, he can feel that knife's point, and suddenly he feels as though he is hanging in the darkness, standing on the thinnest of supports.
And then two paths before him - one strewn with rocks and hard going, difficulties and enemies he may not survive, but in the air hangs a rainbow, bright and beautiful and perfect. The other is easier, and he can almost feel the wealth and glory that lie along that path, with enemies and obstacles still, but so much adulation.
"Choice is the greatest gift given to humanity. You must choose."
And then he is back in the courtyard, and the fires flicker out, and the vines that were once embedded in his flesh are gone, leaving only scars in their wake. But somehow he feels the vines wrapping themselves around his heart, like impending doom.
Or perhaps that's just morbid imagination.