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6/28/2025, 6:54:10 PM
>>6266830
You gaze into the perfect darkness of the pool for what seems like an eternity, all thoughts of the train home forgotten. The longer you look, the more you start to make out images within the inky blackness. Even as the surface of the pool ripples and stirs, you see hard edges and straight lines deep – impossibly deep – within the liquid. It suddenly reminds you of sitting on the banks of Lake Hali with Gratia at your side, listening as she whispered a story to you – a story about a great sunken city, swallowed in a single night by the wake of its sins.
The idea causes a new clarity to cut through you like a knife. What would a child know of sins? You feel yourself drawing back from the black sphere, even as it pulses with the rhythm of your heartbeat. Obeying your better instincts, your reason and rationality, you reach deep into your pocket, closing your fist around the reassuring chill of the frozen shard of moonlight. Drawing it free, you cast the pure white light across the surface of the black liquid and-
With a hoarse, strangled cry, you blindly throw the shard of moonlight aside and seek refuge in the darkness that descends. You caught only a glimpse of what lay within the pool, simultaneously not enough and far too much. You saw a city of ancient grey stone, the squat pyramids and great ziggurats drowning beneath an ocean of blackness. More blackness dotted the roofs and balconies of the dead city, each one representing a nightmarish bird.
“A whole city devoured by the Stryx,” a soft voice begins, “And that city was just a small part of a whole world.”
You look up, gazing into the pure black eyes of the spirit sitting across from you. She draws her languid fingers across the surface of the black lake, but she leaves no trail.
“I thought you’d have gone by now,” you reply quietly, “The Stryx has left, hasn’t it?”
“It has,” the Gratia-thing answers, “But some stains aren’t so easily washed away. They linger. But you needn’t fear – so long as this place is left alone, the people beyond the forest are in no danger. They won’t come here. But YOU did.”
“Foolishly, perhaps.”
“Then why did you come here?”
“Perhaps I was looking for a place to disappear.”
“There are a great many places in this world, and beyond it, that could grant that wish. But I think you had something else in mind,” she muses, “You came seeking strength. Here, take it. This is the strength of your forefathers, a power that saw them blaze a trail across countless worlds. You could do the same, if you wished.”
“That same power destroyed them,” you point out.
“Then you can learn from their mistakes, and succeed where they failed,” she urges, “Take it. Embolden your sickly spirit.”
>You’ll bear any curse, if that’s what it takes. Accept this power
>You won’t be a party to your own destruction. Refuse the power
>Perhaps you could talk a little instead… (Write in)
>Other
You gaze into the perfect darkness of the pool for what seems like an eternity, all thoughts of the train home forgotten. The longer you look, the more you start to make out images within the inky blackness. Even as the surface of the pool ripples and stirs, you see hard edges and straight lines deep – impossibly deep – within the liquid. It suddenly reminds you of sitting on the banks of Lake Hali with Gratia at your side, listening as she whispered a story to you – a story about a great sunken city, swallowed in a single night by the wake of its sins.
The idea causes a new clarity to cut through you like a knife. What would a child know of sins? You feel yourself drawing back from the black sphere, even as it pulses with the rhythm of your heartbeat. Obeying your better instincts, your reason and rationality, you reach deep into your pocket, closing your fist around the reassuring chill of the frozen shard of moonlight. Drawing it free, you cast the pure white light across the surface of the black liquid and-
With a hoarse, strangled cry, you blindly throw the shard of moonlight aside and seek refuge in the darkness that descends. You caught only a glimpse of what lay within the pool, simultaneously not enough and far too much. You saw a city of ancient grey stone, the squat pyramids and great ziggurats drowning beneath an ocean of blackness. More blackness dotted the roofs and balconies of the dead city, each one representing a nightmarish bird.
“A whole city devoured by the Stryx,” a soft voice begins, “And that city was just a small part of a whole world.”
You look up, gazing into the pure black eyes of the spirit sitting across from you. She draws her languid fingers across the surface of the black lake, but she leaves no trail.
“I thought you’d have gone by now,” you reply quietly, “The Stryx has left, hasn’t it?”
“It has,” the Gratia-thing answers, “But some stains aren’t so easily washed away. They linger. But you needn’t fear – so long as this place is left alone, the people beyond the forest are in no danger. They won’t come here. But YOU did.”
“Foolishly, perhaps.”
“Then why did you come here?”
“Perhaps I was looking for a place to disappear.”
“There are a great many places in this world, and beyond it, that could grant that wish. But I think you had something else in mind,” she muses, “You came seeking strength. Here, take it. This is the strength of your forefathers, a power that saw them blaze a trail across countless worlds. You could do the same, if you wished.”
“That same power destroyed them,” you point out.
“Then you can learn from their mistakes, and succeed where they failed,” she urges, “Take it. Embolden your sickly spirit.”
>You’ll bear any curse, if that’s what it takes. Accept this power
>You won’t be a party to your own destruction. Refuse the power
>Perhaps you could talk a little instead… (Write in)
>Other
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