Chapter Text
You carry on to the next riddle, which happens to be inside Karsus’s study.
A missing chunk of wall offers a privileged view of a broken netheril.
The energy emitting from the levitating man makes you want to buckle. « Sacred in divine hand but folly in mortals…in Karsus hand. »
Your gaze drops to the gem clenched in his palms, the rough edges piercing into the skin. Of course. The answer is Karsus' avatar, the gemstone used to channel and absorb mystrils power. You could reach for it and give it to Raphael. It’s the logical thing to do and entirely possible you picked the right door first.
Yet, you decide to see what other versions this place holds.
Raphael sits crossed legged on a plush chair. You don’t recall it being there before. The thought vanishes as you cross the new threshold.
You step inside and the floor is gone. Without warning, you slip downward a narrow passageway, the walls too slippery and slimy to let you stop. The light abandons you behind, falling longer than you should.
You eventually land, hard, but the ground–malleable in its sort–absorbs all impact like a thick air cushion. Sinking slightly under your weight before stopping.
You look up, and all around you but it's useless. The dark is thick, warm with a sour smell. Like the breath of a morning hangover.
“raphael?” No answer.
You move by touch alone, your palm and knees sliding across the ground, warm and wet, so reminiscent of an organ that seems to rise and fall rhythmically under your touch. You lean down, reluctantly pressing your ear against it. You hear a faint whine. You're unsure if it comes below you or ahead, so you crawl toward it. The farther you go, the louder it gets. Your hands are coated in slime, rising above lumps and catching into wet fibrous things. You avoided thinking of the worst.
Your head knocks against a firm surface, your hands trace its curve upward. A wall. You get to your feet, your hands still pressed against the surface supporting you as you continue to move. You hope to feel through either an exit, or a clue to where you are.
The scent deepens into a putrid foulness; the stench of something forgotten, left to rot.
You didn’t think a distortion like this could be possible, magic that could rot, festering in its neglect..isolated. You feel a pang beneath your rib, like nauseating kinship.
Ahead, you see a faint glowing light. Purple, flickering and out of sync. From it comes the whine. You can hear it clearly now.
“Forgive me–.” The voice pleads, choking in its own sound.
you recognize it.
“Forgive me–”
It’s Gabriel’s voice.
You blindly rush to it. Nearly slipping as you crouch down to pick up the gemstone, cradling it carefully between your palm. It is stuck on the words like a broken record, impossible to leave the loop.
“forgive me–”
The audacity of the request, the gift of burden he left you with.
"I cant," you whisper.
This is what kept you awake at night, rehashing all the details of the betrayal, of all things you could’ve said and done. Of the forgiveness you couldn't find in your own ruin. This is your rumination come to life and leaving it here would mean abandoning it. And in this instance, you can't.
The gems hue decays into a sick green and your hands pull down with a new heaviness. Its weight bears a strange feeling that seeps through your skin, causing your heart to sink to your gut.
"You wanted Haarlep's affection," Gabriel accuses you but the voice is wrong, colder, it morphs into Raphael’s.
"Didn't you?"
The gem slips from your hands and shatters into multiplicative voices.
Your own voice.
“You think he touches you because he wants you?”
“It couldve been anyone else”
“You say yes so easily.”
Each shard burns with disdain. They overlap, repeat, completely disarming you.
You crawl away, hands slipping on the moist ground, fingers prickling against something like ivy, or hair. They tighten around you as you pull away.
“You chose to stop trying”
Your back hit against the wall, the space is so narrow, breathing feels overwhelming and you cant see, you cannot think.
“I never expected you to keep up”
It’s your mother’s cadence, your own doubt and Raphael’s disappointment... The tears well up. “Stop!’ you crack. “Stop it,”
The world drops out from under you, sucking you back into a vault of nothingness. you finally see the light across the narrow tunnel, you run toward when something pulls at you, yanking you back. You glance back and see your blouse is caught on a vine.
“You are your own burden”
You yank yourself out and stumble into the main chamber. Your palms hit the cold, firm wooden planks. The light is blinding and the air, so fresh, feels like an assault on your lungs.
Raphael’s is watching you from across the room. You called for him, and he simply watched you. Completly impartial to your distress.
Slowly, you gather whats left of your dignity and wipe your tears with the back of your sleeves, surprisingly dry and clean. You turn to retreat and walk straight into a chest, Raphael’s. His fingers find your chin, forcing you to look at him, you don't want him to see you like this, face swollen and eyes bloodshot . You feel too raw. He wipes a stray tear with his thumb, then wraps his hand around your waist, tucking your blouse neatly into the back of your pants. It's humiliating. Without a word, he moves aside. Your head stays low as you continue to the next iteration.
You tap your foot against the floor, it's solid. The office is bright and tidy. Books are shelved neathly onto their shelves, scrolls tucked into labeled compartments. The walls are adorned with pictures, commemorations; prizes. Everything had a place and purpose. One plaque reads, “Weave restoration project completion.” You do not recognize any of the faces, nor could you spot Karsus’s.
Carefully, you approach the figure standing before the desk; his back turned to you. Your eyes flick to where the open balcony had been; instead it is large glass windows with open curtains with a view on undamaged netheril.
His hands hover above a small glass dome and on a closer look; inside is a gem, you recognize it immediately, It isn’t consuming the air with noise or desperation. It’s refined. Contained. its core varying hues of blue and purple; as if the weave had been captured inside it. You look up at his face; a stranger.. His face is confident, satisfied. Unburdened.
You glance back at the gem. This man did it, you think. The expression he carries is of someone who had achieved everything Karsus never managed.
Your gaze lingers on the office one last time. It reflects success, order and contrasts your own failure.
Perhaps the world would be better off without Karsus….without you.
You retrieve the gem from the first room you visited and submit it to Raphael. You do not meet his gaze as he asks you to confirm it, you simply do.
The gem at once confirms your choice as the correct one; it merges with the dome ceiling carrying your own expression— devoid of pride and forever part of its horrifying design.
“I see one of the rooms has left an impression on you,”
The gaze behind Raphael’s glasses offers no merit either. He must know which one, and you carry its realization like a stain. In another world, the need of you would be so cleanly erased by success. “Do not let it affect your performance; you are near the end of this trial.”
ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ Hi….I’m back!
So i’’ve been on a long hiatus due to ao3 author curse catching me last year.
I’ve spent a good chunk of it recovering from heartbreak, grieving and all of the stuff that can possibly fuel my future writing.
Anyhoo, I hope to be a little more consistent this year if no hiccups occur.
As always, if you’re still here, I appreciate you!
You can follow me on tumblr: ☾
-Cam