Private Tales The Choice of Freedom

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Edric followed along quietly, his gaze flickering back and forth as he parsed the layout of the mansion.

A part of him couldn't believe that Chasmine would have lived in a place like this, but given the fact that there were more than a dozen nobles in the class below him he shouldn't have been too surprised. The Academy took all sorts, not just those without money.

The thought slipped from his mind as they found their way to an ornately embroidered couch. As they reached Edric finding himself awkwardly standing there as he realized he was actually going to have to explain himself. "I do have some good news, but also bad."

Edric continued, constrained by an education meant to turn him into a killer, and not a diplomat.

"Chasmine is...still with us, with me, specifically." As he spoke, Edric fished out the amulet around his neck. "But she is dead."

Before the woman could get a word in, Edric quickly added. "I'm working on bringing her back though! Well, I guess we are..."

Given that he actually had no idea how to achieve that.
 
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The longer she listened the wider her eyes seemed to get. The woman had stopped blinking and breathing at the word dead, and went quite pale as her gaze drifted away in a worrying shock. She clasped a hand about the armrest of her chair for steadying while the other lifted to her bosom.

"I...see... we were afraid of this. It had been so long. Too long without any updates."

Then her eyes lifted back to Ed, a sorrowful look about her, "She is with you?" and looked to the amulet, "How...how did this happen? What happened to our little girl? We asked the school to help her and they could not even tell us where she was."
 
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"Yeah she's in here." Edric said, wiggling the amulet as though it might make Chasmine suddenly appear.

His attention caught for a moment, he turned his gaze back to the woman and frowned.

The 'school'? He had heard others call the Academy that before, and each time it sounded just as ignorant. The anger that flickered in his chest was dulled slightly by the knowledge this woman was likely wholly ignorant of Anirian affairs, but he couldn't help the slight simmer of resentment.

"The Academy..." He frowned. "Isn't exactly the best at 'helping'."

He paused, then added. "Well, it is now, I guess."

Edric wasn't entirely sure how much he should tell this woman, and eventually he shook the necklace again. Peering at it.

"Chas." He said. "Can you..."
 
"Edric," a flash of icy cold emanated from the amulet, a soft voice sharpened by the sternness of a girl, who had only ever taken a tone with malicious entities of the spiritual kind, echoed out with it, "I am not a djinn. Please do not shake me."

The woman immediately stood from her seat, less startled and more excited, "Chassy? Is that you? Are you really here?" Her own voice wavered over the encroachment of tears as she looked at the amulet in Ed's hand.

"Hello, Aunt Violet."

"Oh," Violet lifted a hand to her lips, eyes watery, "my sweet little girl. What's become of you? What happened at the Academy? Why won't they tell us anything?"

There was silence for a few moments before Chasmine spoke again, "I have come to speak with Grandmother. I'm afraid we haven't much time."

The older woman blinked and frowned, her hand dropping at the lack of answers, though a small and fond smile did reappear, "I see." Violet then looked up at Edric, "You are her vessel then? Please follow me."

She turned and stepped past Edric, out into the hall where she moved deeper into the house.
 
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"Oh...Uhh sorry." Edric said quietly, letting the amulet fall down against his chest. With a half sullen look flickering over his features. Suitably admonished, though grumbling under his breath. "The fuck is a jinnie?"

He waited patiently though as the short conversation between Chas and her aunt transpired, not wanting to step on any more toes...or shake any more amulets as the new expression went. Only answering with a quizzical look when the elder woman's attention once again turned to him.

"I guess?" The Rogue Dreadlord answered as he stepped to follow just behind her.

Truth was, he still didn't quite understand half of how Chasmine worked. She had never really offered to explain, and he'd never bothered to ask either. The slow realization that he would likely have to learn only beginning to dawn on him now.

A thought struck him though, and he frowned. "You don't seem...surprised, at least not that much by your niece being a ghost."

Edric asked, once again lacking any tact.
 
Violet glanced back at him as she lead him down a long hallway. Though she frowned, she did not seem displaced by the directness of his observation.

"Well...she's been slipping into her ghost form since she was little older than three," the woman paused at the end of the hall where two large, black doors ornately carved with what appeared to be some scene from another realm, "so, no, being a ghost is not very surprising. Our family has lived deeply within the occult for generations," Violet withdrew a ring of keys and lifted a matching black skeleton key to unlock the door before pushing inward on both doors, "we are not so easily shocked by death or the afterlife."

Within the room was dark, with long black-out curtains pulled over the tall windows to the side.

"This room hasn't seen much use since they moved to Vel Anir. Chasmine's Grandmother was a powerful Seer, and her mother was also a sensitive. But we haven't had a Ghostwalker in the family since ... quite some time. We weren't prepared to handle it, its why her parents took her to the Academy."

She moved to a side table, pulled open a drawer, and withdrew a box of matches to begin lighting candles around the table, "Sit there."

"I will need to use your body again," Chasmine said gently to Edric from the amulet, "the veil here is very thick and I do not have the strength to pierce it."
 
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"Oh." Edric said with a slight frown, the concept of someone's family not only knowing about magic, but actively accepting it being somewhat foreign to him. In Vel Anir, children were...had been given away to the Academy as a matter of purpose. Most families did so gladly, knowing their child would serve not only the nation, but would no longer bring them any trouble.

The fact that Chasmine's aunt had been concerned for her lost Niece hadn't struck him as too odd. After all, Noel's father had missed her, and a few other classmates had told him much the same of their parents. But Anirian families who knew anything at all about magic were few and far between.

As far as Edric knew, anyway. "I guess that makes sense."

The Rogue Dreadlord said, though for once didn't offer the indelicate thought that passed through his head. Even he knew it would be a terrible idea to point out how awful the Academy was at helping anyone but the powers that be in Vel Anir.

He asked no more questions as Violet moved around the small room, lighting candles as she went.

Chasmine's voice echoed in his head, and he nodded. "Okay."

Edric offered, still holding some of the reservations he'd had in the city they had lost, but intent on keeping the promise he had made. If this would help Chasmine get her body back, then he would not offer any argument. Besides, the calm that came with her possession would be nice.

Even if he only had it for a few moments.
 
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While Violet continued lighting candles and setting them up at the round table at the center, Chasmine withdrew from the amulet and pooled her presence into the room directly in front of Edric. He seemed far more willing and less anxious than at Vel Janix, which would certainly help in making the possession ... well, it wasn't a possession really but Chas had yet to determine a better word for the act.

"Like before," her disembodied voice said to him, "close your eyes. Steady your breathing."

He'd feel the coldness of her presence plunge into him through his chest this time and spill outwards through his veins as though she'd pumped his heart full of waters from the frigid tundras. Though she wasn't want to make this a habit, Chasmine found herself pleasantly surprised with how ... cozy it felt to inhabit Edric's body. Unlike the first time where, like every other possession, nothing felt natural and everything felt like she was wearing an outfit that was wrongly fit, this felt curiously comfortable.

She reached within his arms to lightly flex his fingers.

She stepped within his feet to curl his toes within their boots (not so comfortable ... when was the last time he'd bought himself new shoes?)

She pulled air into his lungs to fill his chest, held it, then slowly released.

When Edric opened his eyes again, they were the pale hue of Chasmine Grey and not the cold blue of her former classmate. She could see the room clearly now through his gaze, and her mind flooded Edric with the remnants of her memories the Academy hadn't completely beaten from her. Scenes of her family sat around in the darkness, hands held along the perimeter of the table, candlelight filling just the edges of their faces.

An old woman with her head bowed in the memory, slowly looked up, at, into, and through Edric. It shot a jilted sense of alarm down his (her?) spine.

"Grandmother..." Chasmine spoke and the words exited on Edric's voice.

Violet looked up from a nearby cabinet holding a black urn in her hands, her eyes sticking to Edric's, "Ah-" she smiled tightly, as if holding back tears, "there you are Chassy. Do you sense her now?"

"Yes," Chas turned Edric's gaze around the dark corners of the room before letting it fall on the same, empty chair across the table where the old woman had sat in the memory, "faintly. We must proceed. I will need you to join me, Aunt Violet."

She moved Edric forward to sit in the chair previously indicated by Violet and motioned with his large, battle-beaten hand in a delicate nature to the chair beside him.

"Of course dear," Violet set the urn down on the table at the chair across, then moved to seat herself at Edric's left and held her hand out for him to take.
 
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Edric took a slow breath, his chest rising as he let himself relax. It was a strange sensation that ran through him as Chasmine once again drew into his body. Fingers tingling, and cold rushing through every extremity almost simultaneously.

There was a powerful urge that ran through him to resist, to push back against this new sensation. To draw on the control of his own body and cast out the foreign sensation now lingering within himself.

Yet he did no such thing.

Instead he allowed himself to do something he rarely did; relax.

It did come easily to him. The Academy had trained him to be constantly weary, ready to fight, kill. Everything and every one was a danger. The rage that constantly cloaked him did not help. Setting his teeth on edge at a near constant rate. Yet as Chasmine's soul folded into him, drawing into the space that had so long been empty; a wave of calm drew across Edric's features.

He allowed himself solace, and a strange sort of solitude. For a moment, as Chasmine drew his fingers closed, curled his toes and took a step...Edric felt as though he were nowhere. Floating within an empty expanse of nothing.

No rage.

No anger.

No thoughts.

Even as the images of Chasmine's past flashed through his mind. Edric felt no anger as he usually would, did, at the mistreatment of himself and his classmates. Instead he felt sorrow, sadness. A forlorn telling of the mission he had now taken upon himself.

He had to save them.

His eyes opened, or perhaps they had been open all along. He heard Violet speak, and his gaze flickered as he looked down at his own hand. Is it mine right now?

Edric wondered, moving his palm into hers.
 
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It is ours, Chasmine's thoughts answered him back.

Her own self latently reached for her Aunt's hand, and Violet's eyes widened as she saw the visible, spectral hand for but a short instance as it caught up. Where Edric may have taken the hand and simply held it, Chasmine looked to her Aunt with his eyes and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Edric was very strong, this she knew, so she would have to take care of how she used the strength of his body when it came to interacting with others.

Violet's eyes were beady with unshed tears and squinted over a growing smile in reply before she gently cleared her throat and reached her free hand across the table, laying it open in a gesture toward the urn.

Chasmine mirrored the movement with Edric's right hand, letting his arm rest across the table with his palm open and fingers uncurled, welcoming the unseen hand of the late Grandmother Grey.

Breathe in slowly, Chasmine told him within his own mind as she closed Edric's eyes.

In the darkness, Edric could hear Violet's voice begin to speak and his own voice shortly joined her in a prayer of open passage to the beyond. As Chasmine took full control of him, the sounds would swill into dull murmurs. Then silence.

The void.

Alone with the quiet of his own thoughts.

For a few moments. Longer? Time was meaningless where he was.

Then the world returned and the cool serenity of Chasmine's presence dissipated. A hand gently shook his shoulder. He'd feel tired, groggy, lethargic.

"Wake up dear," Violet looked at him with mild concern, "the seance is over. Chasmine said to thank you for her. She's used up your energy to make contact with her Grandmother."
 
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Edric could not have said how long he floated within that void, how much time passed was entirely immaterial. He enjoyed the sensation, the calm that sat within him. For him, time in that space was no burden, for he felt a peace which escaped him at almost every waking hour.

When he was dragged back into the realm of the material, his eyes opening and a breath filling his lungs he felt something he often did not; fatigue. It was rare, almost impossibly so that the Rogue Dreadlord was tired. His magics were a constant, a draw on the life and vitality around him.

Even as he sat there, he had to forcibly stop the pull at Violet’s life as his innate sense of preservation sought to make him whole.

Fingers curled for a brief moment, and he let himself sway within the exhaustion for a brief moment. Dipping his head in a nod in answer to Violet. His gaze flickering around the room, half wondering what had happened, half wondering if it was even his business to ask. After a moment he decided on the latter, pushing himself up without a word and taking a breath.

”I think it’s best I go now, Ma’am.” He said, trying to be as respectful as he could be.

Once he got outside it would be fine.

There would be a crowd, gardens. From them he could take without anyone really noticing. ”We have a long journey ahead of us.”

Tired eyes found the older woman, and he offered her a smile. ”You’ll see Chasmine again.”

He told her, confident in his promise.
 
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"Well then," Violet's gaze followed the young man as he stood, quite a bit taller than she remembered for some reason. Perhaps through the confusion and excitement she'd really not noticed that ... or his eyes. How curious they were.

"I will look forward to that, yes." It was certainly not the oddest visit the Grey Manor had ever witnessed, but it would be a visit she would not soon forget.

Violet lead him to the foyer once more, pausing at the door as a maid came trotting in with a tray, "Oh yes-" Violet reached out to take from the tray a parcel wrapped in cheesecloth, holding it out for him, "I had the kitchen put together some food for you. I don't know how else I can thank you - do you need money for your journey?"
 
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Edric glanced down at the small package, surprise flickering over his features. "Uhh, thank you."

He said, not used to kindness from strangers. With a surprising gentle hand he reached out and plucked the small parcel. Inspecting it for a brief moment before he surmised that it would probably be rude to open it now and inspect the contents.

"N-no?" The Rogue responded with half a hint of shock. "I mean, I have my own, and I don't think the journey will be that expensive."

The trip to Alliria hadn't cost too much, not when he had offered to work too. He suspected that it would be much the same for this leg. Though undoubtedly there would be a bit more of a challenge in getting the ship to drop them off on the Coastline of the Wylds. "But, thank you."

Edric said awkwardly, still not entirely sure how to handle someone who was so...helpful.
 
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"I don't mean anything by it," Violet lifted her hands in a show of pure intentions, "we just get all types here and I'd never forgive myself for not offering. Especially not to someone helping our Chasmine."

She stepped back to clear the way for him out the door, folding her hands at her front and smiling amiably at him, "Safe journey then to you Edric. And thank you again."
 
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"Ah, well...yes..." Edric said, still fumbling over then words that slipped onto his tongue.

This whole thing was...weird.

He preferred it when the ghosts had been talking to one another. "Thank you...too."

Edric offered Violet a brief smile, and then turned on his heel. His mind moved forward from the moment, already trying to skip towards when he would leave this city. If he could help it, his passage would be booked tonight. All the better if he didn't even have to find the a tavern.

That feeling he had felt outside still clung to him. Itching at the back of his skull as though someone had put him their sights.

It left him uneasy.
 
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The door closed behind him and Edric was left to his uneasy feeling.

At his chest the amulet barely registered as cold. Chasmine was silent.

In the street the merchant nobility went about their day. Stage coaches and carriages rolled by, accompanied by the clopping of horse hooves. Edric received many looks, just as he had before, but it was the looks that any stranger in a place they clearly did not belong received. In his state, he might as well have been a robber or a hooligan, but that he was standing directly before the Grey Manor offered perhaps some small explanation.

That family was strange, after all.
 
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The moment Edric stepped outside he allowed that boundary between the wider world and his magic to drop.

In an instant thin tendrils of entropy extended from him. Invisible and undetectable, they sapped at the life within the courtyard. Flowers, ants, even weed slowly slipped into the beyond and faded as Edric drew upon their strength. Pushing back some of the lethargy that had been thrust upon him with Chasmine's ritual.

A slow breath drew into his lungs, and before long he felt his strength returning completely. Ignoring those that stared at him, knowing that their very life was exactly what was making him feel better.

There was a delicious irony to that.

A smile drawing upon his face, the young Rogue began to make his way back down towards the docks. The hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he moved. His eyes beginning to flicker towards the some of the reflective surfaces in his path. Searching, looking for a pattern.

Finally spotting it as he turned left, and then almost immediately right into one of the narrow alleyways. The Dark cloak the figure wore blended well with the others worn by those on the street, but the slight figure in red and black on the man's coat was what caught his attention.


The sigil was a diamond, and within it traced a great city.

A dreadlord was following him. ”Chas, I don't know if you're asleep…”

His words were a quiet whisper as he made his way through the crowd. Steps careful as he continued to let his eyes flicker to mirrors and polished window panes.

”There's a Dreadlord behind us.” Edric continued calmly. ”I need somewhere I can fight him.”

He begged, hoping she had just enough energy to offer him a direction.
 
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Torpor was a strange state of being she'd discovered many years ago while still living. At times during her training, and sometimes even just while she slept, Chasmine slipped unintentionally into her spirit form and was not able to will herself back to her corporeal body. In her living state then, it took energy to remain as a spirit, and eventually that energy ran out. A drained spirit would not manifest ... could not do much of anything.

Much like the quiet state of a haunted place - it was not necessarily because the spirits weren't about. They simply lacked the impetus and energy to act.

In the amulet at Edric's chest she was able to slowly siphon from him, taking the energy of his emotions and body heat. Between the anxiety felt now at the sudden emergence of the new threat and the quickened pace of his movements and heart, she'd awakened enough to hear his desperate words, though was not coherent enough to understand that he was trying to avoid causing a scene or, perhaps, damages to Alliria.

"There are..." her voice drifted in and out, "farmlands further north."

"Must you fight?"
 
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"Well, I'm not going back to fucking prison to have you watch me pee again." Edric said crudely, though his tone was far more jovial than the situation called for.

He wasn't entirely sure if he could make it all the way out of the city without the Dreadlord engaging him, but if there was a fight he would rather just deal with one man rather than a whole Watchmen brigade. Though he was hardly tapped into the political veins of this city, or home, he knew they were allied enough that a fugitive in one could easily be called the same in the other.

Better not to draw attention to himself.

Picking up his pace, Edric began to cut through the crowds. Moving and gently shoving people into the path behind himself. It did not take him long to leave the inner-city, and shortly after that he slipped through yet another gate.

Over his shoulder, he knew the other man was still following, though how he kept up the trail so closely, Edric couldn't say.

As he turned a corner, Edric let his magic suffuse him. The power slipping into his muscles as he broke into a full-on sprint. Darting down the street as fast as he could, his pursuer suddenly doing the same. Almost mimicking the way the Rogue moved as they rushed out from the city.
 
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There were quite a few things she could have replied with to that.

I saw nothing.

I wasn't watching.

That is the bond of cellmates.

Would it make you feel better to watch me pee?


Alas, she was tired and for whatever reason his words, in his chosen tone, had humored her. So instead, she issued a faint giggle that prickled against his chest and tucked back in to her sleep.
 
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Edric raced through the city street as fast as he could, the...feeling of Chasmine's giggle putting a smile on his face as he darted through the crowd and took wild turns left and right. He moved as quickly as he could, no subtlety or real direction.

A few times the cities own Watchmen shouted for him to stop, but by the time they even raised their spears Edric was already half-way down the block. He moved this way even as he rushed out of the city, one glance over his shoulder telling him that his pursuer was still behind.

The smile on his face turned to a grin.

Why did he run? Because he knew the other man would too, and unlike him, Edric wouldn't get tired.

As he rushed forward his magic lashed out, taking the vitality of those around him. His muscles never tiring, his breath never growing shorter. Every move he made was propped up by his magic, and by the time he and his opponent stood far outside the city gate the other Dreadlord's chest was heaving. When Edric finally stopped, turning around on a dime, his pursuer was so ragged he could barely stand.

One bolt of lightning shout out from his palm, ripping through the land and tearing apart the field Edric had rushed into. Another quickly followed, then another and another. Each one passing by the Rogue as he stepped from side to side, weaving with the same speed he had used to leave the city.

His foot kicked up a rake as he rushed towards his foe, knee breaking it in half with one swift motion before he buried it in the other mans gut.

A spark rushed over the Dreadlord's body, and he let out a heavy cough. "You weren't really running."

The man spat out as Edric held him.

"Not from you." Came the answer, the broken rake ripping free in one smooth motion. Another sputter, and then the Dreadlord's weight crashed down, falling to the floor like a crumple sack of potatoes.

Edric stared down at him for a moment, and then began to walk away.

He was sure there would be more coming.
 
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