EVENT #18: EMERGENCE - IC EVENT LOG

[abraxasmods]

Event #18 - Emergence

OOC Plotting Post ⦁ Pre-Event Info ⦁ Setting Descriptions

Whether voluntary or by force, you find yourself transported to the Singularity's crater. There probably aren't many resistors - officials have taken great pains to convince you to come voluntarily, reserving force as a last resort - but it's clear that everyone is required for this to work. It takes multiple mages to stabilize the portal, but you make it there in one piece. If you cooperate, you'll be asked to walk towards the ancient relic. If you resisted, you might be forced to do so while restrained. Regardless, a heavy fog soon descends around the area, obscuring you and your vision.

If you have thoughts of turning back, it's too late: for some of you, the second you step across the threshold, a force pulls at your chest and absorbs your psyche at once. For others, a mystical call beckons you to walk a little further before the same effect takes hold. And for a rare few, the call brings you to the Singularity itself, where you're compelled to touch it - and are subsequently swallowed up like the others.

The Horizon doesn't greet you like you might expect. Instead, something far stranger awaits.

Please communicate with your fellow players as needed! We also recommend discussing with us if you plan on a major environmental upheaval. As a rule of thumb, you should avoid changes to the landscape that will significantly alter the established map.

We've also posted comment sections for WORLDBUILDING and HANDWAVED submissions. Instructions can be found at the respective links.

Year 20,879

When you open your eyes, it feels like you've only blinked. If your body has transformed or you're someplace that shouldn't exist, it doesn't strike you as odd. You were always here. Everything around you was always here, and your physical alterations and new abilities - while perhaps not originally there - have been a part of you for a long, long time.

The world of Abraxas isn't completely foreign. Familiar territories remain, as well as the familiar faces of those with long lifespans. But a lot has changed in 800 years, too, especially where the Gods are concerned. Alongside the Old Gods of the Ancient Pantheon and the Cardinal Gods of the New Order, a third class of deities formed from you and your fellow Summoned: the Ecesis Gods of the Iterum Pantheon.

Politics, People, & Gods

Abraxas's political landscape remains complex, with continued tensions over land, worship, resources, and power. Nonetheless, since the Free Cities is no longer intent on destroying the Singularity, conflict over the ancient relic has lessened. All territories agree that the Godlands - and the Singularity - belong to the Gods themselves.

Beliefs and Gods

The active presence of the Summoned confirms the existence of the Gods. As a result, most Abraxans turn to the Summoned and other Gods for aid or protection. Extreme reverence exists in certain areas, especially on the Isle of the Lost and in parts of Solvunn. In other places, though, the Gods are merely acknowledged as a facet of life - a force that helps or hinders depending on temperament and should be respected, much like the sea. The Gods play a crucial role, sure, but so do the rain and stars. This is particularly true in the Feywilds, the Nether, and the Free Cities.

Small pockets of non-believers actively denounce the Gods. They claim the Summoned should be wiped from the world and the Singularity destroyed to prevent future invasions. Labeled dangerous heretics by Thorne and Solvunn, and "regressives" by the Free Cities - whose scientists and philosophers liken such thinking to be as foolish as declaring the sun unworthy or the earth to be flat - these people are shunned from society. In Solvunn, the consequences are more severe: heretics are exiled to the Barren, where they are subsumed by the desert, the Maw, or whichever Gods may punish them.

At the other end, some sects revere the Godlands so much that they believe feeding themselves to the relic will enhance Abraxas' good fortune for generations to come. Such cults are quite rare, but there are reports of mortals throwing themselves into the Singularity's crater and disintegrating as a gesture of their devotion to the divine.

International Relations

Due to the combined change in their priorities, Thorne and the Free Cities are less at odds. The Free Cities believes in protecting the Singularity; Thorne no longer seeks to control it. Nonetheless, mistrust flares on occasion.

While things are peaceful during these three months and have been for a few decades, Abraxas hasn't found a cure for war in the Gods. Conflict has broken out in the past and will again. Eyes are on the Nether as it grows in power, and who knows how long Thorne will be content with its losses? Will they convince the Velan Republic to reunite and turn against the Free Cities? For now, though, the territories have found their stride and appear more interested in progress than fighting.

Magic & The Singularity

Magic is relatively unchanged and is a vital part of Abraxan life. The small kingdom of Thorne continues to practice Academic Magic. Meanwhile, Wild Magic plays the same important role in the Velan Republic (formally Nott). Meanwhile, the Free Cities has developed New Magic further. The goal of decoupling magic from technology is less of a focus. Instead, researchers are eager to find new ways to fuse magic and innovation, including aspects of the Gods. Portable shrines, for example, are popular with traveling merchants.

High Magic no longer exists as a specific school of magic now that offerings, pacts, and requests to the Gods are a part of everyday life across Abraxas. Solvunn has returned to its roots, using the ancient Academic Magic practiced by the Lunae for standard tasks while turning to the Gods for greater blessings.

The Singularity has been relatively stable for the past two or three centuries. While occasional disturbances rumble, for the most part, the presence of the Summoned has strengthened it, alleviating its displeasure and ensuring that Abraxas - and possibly the universe itself - continues to exist. Indeed, academic writings from Thorne and the Free Cities across time suggest that the Singularity's devouring of the world has considerably slowed. It is now as much of a threat as the eventual collapse of the sun, something that is bound to occur but not for eons.

Of course, this could quickly change if the Summoned or any other Gods provoke the Singularity by rejecting its connection or denying its magic...so all should take care not to upset the nature of things.

Old World, New World

The map of Abraxas has undergone some notable shifts, although many names and places are the same.

Setting descriptions are HERE for your reference.

Mechapolis, the Witchwood, and the Barren/the Maw contain prompts related to the event itself. Information about those areas can be found under "Exploring the Land" in the section The World as the Divine (Month 1-2).

Month 1-2: Submersion

What do you last remember? Well, that depends. You might recall most things perfectly clearly. You might have new memories that don't feel new at all. Or, you might only remember the most recent year or two. Regardless, there is something missing: an important face, a handful of key events...maybe you don't remember having ever lived anywhere except Abraxas. You might find this unsettling, or you might accept it as just the way things are.

You've transcended those old memories, anyhow. You feel a little distant from the person you were centuries ago, and you most likely look different, too. Perhaps you've sprouted giant wings, become a formless void, or you're now a shapeshifter with no permanent appearance. You've gained a substantial amount of power and influence, the type that people of this world attribute to the Gods.

The first half is a more sandbox-like environment designed for scenarios that emphasize CR and personal character moments. Active conflict between the emergent reality and the world will not arise until the second half.

The World as the Divine

The mortals have bestowed you with a title and possibly a new alias. Do you know your mortal name anymore? Some of you might've taken on a new identity, or you might have held very tightly onto who you were. Regardless, your abilities have grown. Your new powers and appearance are as unique as your dominion, influenced by your interests, subconscious desires, or personal relationships.

While in your full God form, you'll move through the world unperceived. Only when you're sought by a mortal - followers, believers, cultists - can you consciously make your complete divine presence known. To be seen freely by all, you'll have to take on a less overwhelming shape to the mortal gaze. Those who have met the Old Gods or Cardinal Gods in the past finally understand why they seldom reveal their true selves, often arriving in hazy visions or speaking through animals.

Exploring the Land

◎ The Witchwood

As the Summoned continued to ascend, their power began to coalesce, creating a new ecosystem never seen before. The dense woods, originally a temperate climate, warmed and grew into a thriving jungle. The air is humid and heavy with magic, the sky locked into an eternal sunset. Reds and oranges filter through the thick canopy. Birdcall and animal cries echo throughout the jungle. Trees and rocks seemingly move at night, meaning the Witchwood is impossible to map. Foolhardy souls who venture too deep are rarely seen again - unless divine intervention prevents a tragic fate from befalling them. Perhaps one of those intervening Gods is you?

The most dangerous beasts in the Witchwood are the demigod spawns. Creatures born from the Summoned, demigods are powerful enough to affect the world around them should they ever leave the magic-encased forest. See Impact & Consequences for more details on the demigods and how, as the Summoned, you can help maintain Abraxas' ecosystem.

◎ Mechapolis

Heartwood Syndrome persisted in Fomalhaut long after the quarantined population died out. The port city stood as a monument to loss for nearly a century until about 200 years in when the Summoned gained notable influence as Gods. This resulted in a slow but steady acceptance of the Singularity's power as a positive force for potential advancement. New Magic boomed, leading to increased sophistication in technology and the refinement of automatons.

Originally designed to clear and guard Fomalhaut, they were eventually used to rebuild it. Fomalhaut became known as the City of Machines and was renamed Mechapolis. Although humans are barred from entering for safety, the automatons gather soil and air samples for study and perform fishing duties. The clockworks require routine maintenance and must return to a hub city or outpost for recalibration. Clockwork birds are used to communicate with Mechapolis. They can broadcast through the Free Cities's primitive "radio" towers.

You can enhance clockwork performance, boosting the towers or providing additional energy to the automatons. Scientists often have "rituals" when performing maintenance or experiments to earn the Gods' favor, hoping this will prevent their inventions from breaking down.

◎ The Barren/The Badlands

Once contested territory between Thorne and the Free Cities, the Badlands was split into two by a large ravine shortly after Thorne retreated to Hayle. With neither side able to breach the gap, Solvunn naturally laid claim to the western half while the Free Cities retained its eastern half. On the eastern side, the chasm swallowed several well-known bandit camps and the presence of a new entity further drove them away. Bandits now occupy the mountains northeast of Aquila. Due to the entity's threat, the Free Cities increased its military presence in the Badlands to keep careless or foolish travelers from straying too far.

Meanwhile, Solvunn has named its portion of the wasteland the Barren and sought the Gods' assistance to form an enchanted forest. Those who enter are lost forever. Meant for more than just protection, the forest and the Barren serve as a place of exile. Heretics are taken into the woods and left to wander towards the Barren's harsh desert. There, they will face the elements, be devoured by the waiting Maw...or encounter a God.

As a God, you can lead the exiles to their salvation or doom, but choose carefully: the Maw is hungry and must be fed. These exiles want you dead. They don't care for you, and should their lack of faith spread, they might revive attempts to destroy the Singularity - and with it, your home. Is it so wrong to leave them to their fate? On the other hand, saving them might convert them by demonstrating your kindness.

◎ The Maw

The Maw lurks beneath the chasm dividing the Badlands. Named for its gaping jaws, the Maw waits at the widest part of a jagged canyon, mouth open and salivating in the desert heat. Rows and rows of teeth as tall as a man spiral downward into a bloodshot throat. When sated, it retreats deep into the gully, barely visible aside from the shine of a tooth. When hungry, it draws closer to the surface. Hot and heavy winds often carry the putrid scent of its half-digested meals.

Solvunn is not the only territory that uses the Maw. The Free Cities will occasionally march criminals and bandits in that direction, as well, tossing them into the gaping mouth, although this method of execution is much rarer. Desperate exiles from Solvunn will try to cross the chasm despite the danger. None ever make it - at least, not without divine intervention.

Horizon, "Death," and Dormancy

Your domain in the Horizon is no longer constrained by size. How it's changed depends on you. The more detached from your mortality, the more likely it'll have surrealist elements: bizarre statues, physics-defying architecture, odd visual or psychological effects. The Horizon feels like home to all Gods, although you ought to take care not to heed its call beyond reason. Shutting yourself off from the physical world can result in unintended consequences...but completely refusing to enter the Horizon will do the same.

Additionally, Gods are beyond true death, but that doesn't mean you can act with impunity. Engaging in an exhaustive battle with other Gods can weaken you into dormancy. In this state, you will enter an ethereal void inside the Singularity. As you heal, you'll slowly be able to return to your Horizon domain and then the physical world once more. Depending on the extent of the damage, this process could take anywhere from months to decades. For instance, losing your head could take a few months, total dismemberment might take a year, and being vaporized into atoms can take a few decades.

Mortals cannot achieve this level of damage, even if they seemingly "succeed" in striking true. Only a God can weaken another God into dormancy. If a mortal removes your head, you can merely pick it up and put it back on.

Impact & Consequences

In the early years of your ascension, you might've wondered why the existing Gods seemingly intervened so little. Why did they not demonstrate their powers more blatantly over the thousands of years? Is it apathy? A desire to watch rather than act? As you come into your abilities, you realize that the Singularity and the universe are significantly more delicate than you thought. You begin to understand why the Gods have behaved the way they do.

Of course, whether you care to keep the world (and yourself) in balance is another story, but to be sure, some of the other Gods and the Summoned do - and you may have to defend your choices.

The equilibrium mechanic is described in OOC terms HERE. The Singularity and a character's ascension will not inherently sway them one way or the other. Any temptations will result from individual personality and development.

Instability Effects

To maintain the universe's equilibrium, you need to be cautious of when and how you interfere when using your status to alter the state of the world. Conversely, you'll also need to take care not to withdraw entirely. Several Gods have undergone periods of instability, though others haven't. Which category you fall under is up to you. It depends on who you are, your experiences, and your desires.

◎ Should you refuse to ACKNOWLEDGE your Godhood or enter the Horizon, you'll find yourself losing time. You may forget how you got from one place to another, or names you knew yesterday slip your mind. Lapses in memory or time can be temporary or permanent, but one thing they are is certainly confusing. With magic building inside you and nowhere for it to go, your power will begin to spill over, causing the Singularity to exhibit bursts of power that spawn demigods in the Witchwood.

◎ Should you give into the temptation to OVERINDULGE your Godhood or retreat to the Horizon for excessive periods, you'll lose more of yourself and your history. You may make decisions that feel unlike you, forget larger chunks of old memories, or struggle to distinguish what's real. Unrestrained use of magic will cause you to absorb yet more power, causing the Singularity to lose power in brief spurts, which can spawn demigods in the Witchwood.

These effects can be halted or even reversed in some cases. You might need someone's help to bring you back or convince you there's another way, or maybe you're the one seeking others out to assist. What you do soon understand is that your ability to manage your powers and stabilize your connection to the Horizon directly affects the Singularity and Abraxas...something that may have been true the moment you were summoned.

Demigod Spawns

Under the red haze of the Witchwood, monstrous creatures known as demigods or spawns emerge from crimson waterfalls and claw their out through the mossy soil. Born out of instabilities caused by careless actions from all Gods, they're usually contained to the Witchwood. For the most part, the older Gods - and the Summoned, if they choose - keep the demigods from leaving. However, now and again, one or two might escape, damaging towns, destroying villages, or causing ecological destruction in ways that are similar to natural disasters.

Demigods are not sentient. How they look can vary, but their appearances are often corrupted and disturbing: twisted animals, amorphous blobs, or alien-like parasites. They may resemble a monster you recognize from home.

Defeating one is possible but a challenge even for the Gods. Most crucially, you cannot kill your own spawn. Another God must deliver the killing blow, so working together is imperative. Should too many demigod spawns be allowed to invade the Witchwood, they will overwhelm and disrupt the Singularity further. Culling them is the only way to maintain stability.

You can submit demigod spawns you create to the WORLDBUILDING section if you want. Similar to using character powers, just keep the scale of destruction at a reasonable level.

Hearing Echoes

Echoes are a form of prayer that resonates through your connection with the Singularity. Solvunn has dedicated a monument to where the "First Echo" was heard, though the accuracy of this is debatable. Like the Network, you can hear an Echo regardless of where you are and can shut them out with concentration. However, your ties to Godhood may compel you to listen every so often. Mortals can entreat you through more formal methods (rituals, offerings, seasonal ceremonies) or in a moment of duress or desperation. They may seek you specifically or call to any God who will listen.

You can answer or ignore these cries for help as you like, but your choices carry consequences. Answer too many too eagerly, and your increased interference in mortal lives can upset the world's equilibrium - and the Singularity. Ignore your impact on the world, and your refusal to accept your ascension will equally destabilize the land as prayers go unheard.

Interacting with Other Gods

The Old Gods and the Cardinal Gods are an equal part of this world. For the most part, you coexist peacefully, though personal pacts and tensions can play a role. Each of you is aware of the impact of your actions on the Singularity: extreme displays of power are reserved for substantial transgressions, considering the price it carries.

Further, the older Gods have also walked the earth for centuries before you came. To them, you're still young, and rising against one of them won't end well for you. Nonetheless, many older Gods are more interested in giving advice or guiding you, ensuring the health of the Singularity and the universe so as not to doom all of you - Gods and mortals alike - to the void.

You can REQUEST AN INTERACTION with a God. Interactions will be brief but informative.

You will not be able to request a specific God. For logistical reasons, we have curated the list of Gods available ahead of time. However, we'll do our best to pick one from the pool that suits the purpose of your request.

Month 3: Awakening

Over the past 2 months, you've existed in the emergent reality without question. As you enter the third month, however, everything you've known over the past many centuries begins to shift. You might decide to investigate further, wondering if there's more out there that you aren't seeing. Alternatively, you might choose to ignore it, believing that your awakening is damaging the world and your life.

Catalysts

A catalyst can occur at any time through any circumstance. Do you see a familiar face you've forgotten in the eyes of a stranger? Do you recall a moment in your past while watching the mortals? Has a friend approached you specifically to try and remind you of the things you've forgotten?

With each memory returned you'll gain another piece of yourself. Depending on how much you've lost and how hard you'll cling to this reality, the effect may be clarifying or it might cause you distress and confusion. You might begin to encounter temporal cracks: buildings or areas that normally don't exist will flicker in and out of existence, or your reflection will briefly show an image of you from before your transformations took hold.

If you allow yourself to doubt your abilities or divinity, you might have trouble controlling your powers. If you've made alterations to your Horizon domain, it might start to revert to its original design.

These cracks are difficult to ignore, but if you bury your head, you can make them disappear - briefly, at least.

Shattered Skies

The effects go beyond the individual. As more of you and your fellow Gods reawaken, the sky also begins to form cracks that spread like broken glass. Through the fractures, you glimpse flashes of lightning and a swirling fog. The fissures only grow larger.

Soon, you realize you can see the Singularity itself, reflected upside-down in the crater. Disconcerting though it is, it may serve as proof that something is very wrong. Of course, you can also refuse to acknowledge this disturbance, closing your eyes to the crumbling sky. Doing so will let you remain unaware to the very end, but your friends who are seeking the truth might find your denial distressing.

The sky won't hold, though. Eventually, it does shatter completely - and you awaken abruptly, your body and others scattered several feet away from the Singularity's crater as if you were physically thrown out. The fog begins to dissipate. The lightning has stopped, the unrelenting storms fading across Abraxas. Whatever you went through, it seems to have done exactly what the territories hoped: stabilize the Singularity.

Characters will be returned home afterward. They will be thanked for their assistance regardless of if they cooperated.

Resistors will not face any consequences, as long as they don't cause excessive trouble upon their return. Officials will issue an apology for the heavy-handed action, stating that they saw no other way to keep the world safe. With the portals and weather returning to normal, it does seem to have worked...even if characters may not find the method agreeable.

---

Comments

— ☼ geralt (cw: child endangerment)

[thedreamer]

[ A child cries out in the dark, a brutal and startling sound in its urgency. They may be some distance away, but the fear is palpable and heavy enough that the Doctor can almost hold it — trembling — in his hands. He could move with the swiftness of a single breath and that still wouldn't be fast enough as another child joins the screaming, and another, and another still.

Just a few moments prior, before the worst of sounds echoed out all around him, the Doctor had been only a short distance from where he knew Geralt to be. Long days over these expansive years had often led him towards the other man's quiet and steady presence that had the unique ability to settle him. He feels he knows him well enough now to assume he'll hear the same sounds from the children and follow, that both of them will end up precisely where they need to be at the very moment they're needed, without speaking a word to one another.

So — off he goes, speeding to the children mere seconds after hearing their pleas for help. It would almost be easier if the sight before him revealed a monster bearing down on them; monsters, however strong, are easy to understand, if not to defeat. It's the terror that stalks its way behind human eyes that's always alarmed him most, and there they are — four young children at the mercy of a man brandishing a knife. He speaks of how they'll be welcomed into the group, they'll be part of the community, all will be well. A cult, more than likely. Indoctrination against their will, taken from their families.

It's an almost instant reaction from the Doctor then as he places himself bodily between them. The children may be safe from the man for the moment, but what happens tomorrow or the day after? Normally replete with mercy, the echoing whimpers of the children obliterate every remaining shred of kindness he has left, and it's with dark eyes — like the stars have gone out — that he stares down the man, grips his mind with his own, and leads him the edge of darkness. ]

[gynvael]

[ After so long, most Echoes fade into the background. With so many others he trusts to take care of what needs to be done—who are as capable of it as him—he is less compelled to answer every cry. But some call to him and him alone, reaching through the small carved wolves he leaves behind, and those are the ones he cannot ignore.

He spins his horse around. He does not anticipate the Doctor arriving. Isn't surprised to see him, either. They've crossed paths before. What they will find this time, he can't say. He hopes for some fanged beast. An easy, uncomplicated problem. Deep down, he senses there is more to it, and sure enough, when he walks through the gates, the only monsters are the men who encircle the children. Fresh corpses litter the dirt; not soldiers or guards, just farmers and tradesmen. He gives no consideration as to what the men want; whatever their motivations, it can't possibly justify slaughtering a village and stealing its children.

A man around the corner tears a young girl from her mother's arms. Geralt glances up. His eyes narrow. He curls his fingers around his sword.

While the Doctor faces the man wielding a dagger, Geralt stalks after the brigands targeting each hut. Tangled roots sprout at his feet. The men fall quickly—blood staining the ground, spilling over stone steps. Geralt steps over an abandoned arm to retrieve the girl clutching the roughly hewn wolf. It's okay, he says. He means to tell the Doctor to take her with the others, but when he returns to the center of the square, he realizes—

Gently, he puts the girl down. The darkness rippling outwards is unmistakable. The cluster of boys smell thickly of fear, shrinking away from the starlit figure that came to their rescue.

Geralt shifts his weight, uncertain whether he'll be heard. He hasn't seen the Doctor like this before. And although he doesn't give a shit about the human man, something tells him the Doctor will regret frightening the children. ] That's enough.

[thedreamer]

[ In all this time roaming these lands, seeing the best and worst of humanity, he's only come close to losing his grip like this once or twice, but this is new. This is a culmination of grief and pain, of losing mortals he'd unwisely allowed himself to attach to. Their brief lives flicker out over and over again and he's trapped here watching, waiting. Some die peacefully as they wither into an age that will never come to pass for him. But so many hurt each other, their lives cut short before he can save them all. Even for the ones he does manage to save, they'll die eventually and it's endless and he'll just be here going on and he's never learned, has he? There are no happy endings, just...endings.

For the children of this world, he wants always to be a beacon of light, for however long their beautiful lives will go on. And here, instead, in this village of horrors where the ground turns red with blood, he meant to protect, to bring hope. Hope he did bring — briefly — before the children were left to bear witness to a moment of darkness unleashed because he couldn't control himself. It's selfish and cruel, driven by his pain, and that voice —

There's a delay, a half-second longer than the children should have to endure. But it's enough to pull him back, to stop him, the psychic attack ending almost instantly as he severs the connection between their minds.

He's gone too far.

The man crumples to the ground — alive, but nearly catatonic.

The Doctor turns slowly to look for the voice, the children. In sharp contrast to the coming dark he'd manifested only moments before, his expression is notably softened, gentle, ashamed. The starlight that normally envelops him is slow to return, as though it doesn't quite belong yet. With all the regret one might expect of someone who means only to devote himself to the care and protection of others, the Doctor speaks with no small amount of regret and remorse — ]

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. The children, are they — [ There were others, ones still to help. ]

[gynvael]

[ A flicker of uncertainty passes over them. For a second, Geralt doesn't know if the Doctor will stop. But he does, the human collapsing like a puppet with severed strings, and Geralt simply rises from where he's crouched by the children. They are not exactly comforted by a wolf stained with blood, either, so. He lets them huddle together and makes no effort to interfere further. ]

They're fine, [ he answers gently. His attention returns to the man on the ground, writhing haplessly. There's no fixing that; the Doctor fucked him up pretty good, and even if he had not, Geralt isn't eager to let the man walk free. He possesses a limited well of sympathy. Briefly, he considers taking care of the problem away from the children's sight—but they've seen it all. He realizes that, too.

His blade can cut through stone. It separates the man's head from the body easily. Silence falls. Vacant eyes stare up at the sky.

He sighs. Not the cleanest job. But he's been involved in messier. ]

Come on. [ Might do the Doctor some good to leave this behind. ] We can bring them to Cid's sanctuary.

[ It's become the place to bring lost children. For Geralt, in any case. There are a lot of strays. Seems even several dozen gods roaming the earth can't stop people from being who they are: greedy, unkind, self-serving. And maybe, in a sense, that is for the best. The gods are not so removed from men as some like to think. Now that he's one of them, he sees that clearer than ever. ]

[thedreamer]

[ What a hypocrite he is, as he's compelled to turn away from the sight of the man's head being severed from his body. While nothing might have ultimately spared him from the blade, his suffering had been...cruelly prolonged by the Doctor's own hand, and yet — here and now — the swift act of execution unsettles him. He knows why, though — it's the finality he doesn't like, the thought that maybe he could have done anything at all differently and the brutal ending for so many here could have gone another way. But that would mean turning the light on in every heart that's already gone to a darkness from which they can't be saved.

He can acknowledge that he's seen people and creatures beyond mercy, beyond second chances, while not entirely accepting it and wanting to believe in just one more time. His eyes return to Geralt, nodding in silence before he passes the man purposefully, sparing a glance now only when the deed is done. His more immediate focus and his greater concern is for the children here.

Cid, yes. They'll be safe there, thankfully. He only wishes there weren't need to shelter quite so many these days. Far too many.

As he nears the children, it's to be expected when they huddle closer and recoil from the Doctor. Hands of waning starlight cautiously reach for them as he kneels a bit in an attempt to seem less imposing. ]

If you'll take my hand, we'll bring you somewhere safe. Promise.

[ Ultimately, they won't be left here regardless, of course, but after the harrowing ordeal that's transpired, he'd prefer to allow them a moment to consider him and to grant them some measure of personal choice and autonomy here. So, letting that settle for a second, to Geralt, briefly — ] Were there many other children?

[gynvael]

[ Neither the first nor the last time someone's turned away from the stroke of his sword. Should it bother him? Maybe, but it doesn't. Something about it is strangely right—scales tipping back into balance. The Doctor dislikes bloodshed; Geralt takes care of what others will not or cannot, and things are less out of place than they were mere minutes ago. Eight hundred years is a long time to settle into patterns; Geralt is all too aware when those conventions break. When someone makes a sharp turn.

But the Doctor's eyes are clear again, if regretful. The tension between his ribs releases.

When the girl clutching her worn wood-carved wolf turns to him, Geralt nods. She inches closer and takes the Doctor's hand. It seems enough to convince the rest to follow. Vaguely, buried underneath too many layers of dust and ashes, he remembers doing the same. Following a man they didn't trust because they hadn't anywhere else to go.

It isn't really a choice. Just the closest they'll get to one. ]

Three others. [ Geralt coaxes his horse forward and sheathes his sword. One of the boys bears a scraped knee, blood running down his leg. He picks him up and sets him on Roach's saddle. He doesn't spare a glance back. Something else will come for the corpses: scavengers, another god, looters. It's not his problem.

His gaze cuts to the Doctor. Thick grass unfolds ahead of them. He doesn't ask what happened. That, he thinks, is simple to guess. ] Are you okay?

[thedreamer]

[ Is he okay? Far from it, though — whatever he might be feeling rather pales in comparison to what's happened here, to those slaughtered, to the children left behind. He didn't really help matters, though, did he?

He's not okay, but he will be.

That would ordinarily be fine — sort of (not entirely) — were he left to his own devices. He could have a moment and sink into the depths of something dark and lonely and quiet for a little while with no one else around to see him and that would be how he'd prefer it in those moments when he falters. But when others are near, friends or others simply counting on him, he can't afford to falter. He wants to be the one who fixes things, the one others seek out, the anchor in a terrible storm. They should count on him, not worry that he's not okay, can't keep himself together, can't control himself. Geralt shouldn't have had to pull him back from the brink of anything at all, but he did, and he's grateful for it.

I'm the king of okay sits in the back of his throat; words he'd said to a friend once (were they a friend? how long ago now?). But that's too flippant even for him, in a moment like this. I'm always okay, which is true, or as true as he wants it to be.

There's a better truth, though, one that wedges between his hearts as the little girl grants him the gift of trusting him to take her hand and guide her away from this place. ]

I am now.

[ He holds on to the other children as they walk, and he settles a bit more when Geralt helps the injured boy atop his saddle. As a path blooms ahead of them and they follow it all together, the Doctor swings back around to himself, speaking to the small ones who have lost so much already. ]

Nothing and no one will hurt you again.

[gynvael]

[ However long the Doctor takes to answer, Geralt lets him have. When it comes, he doesn't respond. But the faintest tilt to his lips says that he heard. He's been there before. The understanding of what will be that only comes after too many years lived.

They leave the bodies and scorched grounds behind. The village will be abandoned for a time, but he knows a certain Piper will follow in his wake soon enough to revitalize the land. It'll flourish again. Perhaps some of the children might even return home after a few years.

Geralt follows behind the Doctor, walking quietly with the other children and making sure they're keeping up. When another girl complains she's tired, he ends up carrying her on his shoulders. The road looks long, but as it unwinds ahead of them, the distance seems to shorten with every step, crossing miles at a time instead of mere feet. He can't recall when it started—this method of traversing he has—but he's found no reason to question it. It feels right to him in a way that portaling never has. ]

They'll move on elsewhere. [ The fanatics who converged on the village. There's no end to them, and he knows they'd have hardly sent their entire force to one little town. The others must be out there. His question is carefully neutral: a matter of interest, not a request. ] Will you look for them?

[thedreamer]

[ The magic his friend imparts makes the journey at least more peaceful than the horrors of what they left behind. It's a method of travel he's not capable of himself, but one that lends a bit of comfort to his mind, but more importantly, seems to soothe the children. As they walk, one child taps the stars on the top of his hand, a silent question, and the Doctor smiles briefly, opening up his palm to reveal a few miniature stars and a little floating planet. Just an illusion, but one to bring something gentle to a day with sharp and painful edges. To Geralt's question — ]

They will, you're right. They'll never really stop.

[ He knows what's capable of, what he'll do if he must, he knows there's a darkness in him that he sometimes has nightmares about, as though it all can't actually be real. But knowing the worst about himself keeps him fighting against it and turning to compassion and hope as often as he can. Those are the memories he wants to leave behind, the impact he wants to have on this world and all beyond, that he sought to help and defend, that what he fought for most would be the persistence of mercy. ]

I'll look for the children, and the lost, and the hopeless. And the monsters that come — [ And they will. ] — will answer to me.

[ He'll go to the ones who call for him and he'll stand between them and the dark, but — he'll hold it back, not seek it out or become it. What he'll do to said monsters remains unspoken, but he'll always recall the look of fear he'd conjured in the children and he'll hold fast to that to steady him in those moments when it seems the easier path to take, to give in to cruelty. ]

And you?

[gynvael]

[ No. And when they vanish and fade, others will take their place. Some have deemed them gods, but Geralt isn't sure they're much of anything except witnesses to the same refrain. Borders shift and change, they have taken new forms, but the world remains as it is.

Perhaps there's some comfort in that. He doesn't know if he would want to be capable of shaping its fate. This, here, existing alongside humans, absent until called on—it's familiar. He knows it well.

Hooves click steadily in the beats between the Doctor's words. Despite what he saw, he is not concerned about what the Doctor might do once they part. They've known each other for a while—and it would take a lot for him to ever doubt the Doctor's intentions.

There's a vague noise in reply. ] Depends what crosses my attention.

[ In the end, that's what it boils down: can he turn away? More often than not, the answer is no. But there are times he's left them to their monsters, to the graves of their own making. Sometimes, there isn't anything left to save. ]

If you need me—you know how to find me.

wrap here if that works 🎁

[thedreamer]

[ He thinks once — in a life far beyond this, barely a memory — he was often interfering, helping, making it his business to get involved in the affairs of others where and when he could. He knew exactly how much he could safely affect events around him without causing catastrophic alterations to timelines.

Lately, he's questioned if that was real or not. He knows, at least, what he would want to do, how he would choose to conduct himself, who he wants to be. Events like today remind of that with stark clarity. The children are safe for now, that's all that matters to him.

He can understand Geralt's perspective, the answer he gives. Today has been an answer all its own. And he knows if he truly does need him again — especially where children are concerned — he at least won't be immediately turned away. Whether his friend will choose to get involved or not, well, he'll also understand any choice he would make. ]

You know where to find me, too. If you need me, I'll always come.