dev 6 - clearing dreadwood

They say water is reflection of spirit.

Unfortunately, for the place such as Dreadwoods, it was reflection of sorrow, torment and pain. The many lost spirits of those that had wandered here, either by accident or by desperate need, have ended up stuck in the cruel loop of suffering which had no escape. This budding Spiritmancer, however?

He wanted to end it.

The reason why Elyon was brought here was his affinity to Nullification. He could tell that something was different about the Hirai twin, that his own Occult didn't seem... as wild, but rather tamed in its own right. It was close to some of the Sunyata users that he encountered back in Levengard, and he very well assumed that Elyon was something similar.

Holding destructive power of Occult, but tamed within those grey sparks.

"Do you remember those energies, Elyon?"

"I was meaning to summon them again, to draw them close. Once the essence of corrupted spirits arrives... they will be no doubt tainted by Occult. I wanted you to nullify such energies, tame them perhaps, so it's easier for me to work with those spirits."

"After that, I can force spiritual catharsis. They will finally leave the endless loop of being stuck here."

As for Suna? He wasn't sure of what exactly she was capable of just yet... or perhaps, she could take her time to study how such things work?

"And Suna-"

"You could either aid me or Elyon, or learn. Either is fine."
(Keitaro)

The darkness enveloped their surroundings, ever encroaching upon the light that they emitted. Had it not been for Keitaro and Elyon, Setsuna would have been stricken with fear. For all her talk and bragging about the Emperor, she was still a child.

No matter, she fought through the fear, her fists balling, as they approached the lakeside. People who had lost their lives, be it by demons or murder- their souls were surely trapped in this wretched place.

Left to wander, unfulfilled desires and dreams long since forgotten. She had no idea what Keitaro was attempting to do, but by listening she had a broad idea.

"For now I'll observe, I'll learn."

Her bubbly personality wasn't visible, not when things had become far darker. It wasn't the jolly-good adventure she had anticipated, but it would serve as a good learning tool regardless.

The Qilin's gaze shifted to Elyon momentarily. She had no idea what Keitaro wasreferring to when he asked him to nullify the energy. She knew of Sunyata, having studied under Reito, but this process was unfamiliar.

Silence. Her attentive gaze watching all the while.
(Setsuna Ukitake)

(Setsuna Ukitake)

The woods had always been far from peasant, and yet it was a different now-- a different, albeit just as agonizing sensation. With every step the took, it only intensifies. Requiem's hilt is practically searing, and he could tell it by the way it's actually painful to rest his hand there. The deeper they drift, the louder do those voices inside his head boom.

Ancient echoes that used to be distant and blurred are sharpened now, and he couldn't help the way he'd briefly reach out to press those digits against his forehead, even if his wince is well hidden.

A certain temptation to let it out-- countless, non-stop whispers that urge him to break the corrupted blade-- if anything; Synmael appeared rather frantic now that they're back in his home.

It isn't until Keitaro's words find him would the younger twin glance back up, though his response comes a bit delayed.

"Directly... imposing Nullification onto others isn't as easy-- I'm still learning, although I can still help their case... specially if they're hostile and aim for me. Won't be able to completely cleanse them or anything along those lines, but probably make things easier for you nonetheless."

Spirits are likely easier to handle compared to any other creature, but--

"That aside, I can also make sure our surroundings remain calm-- lacking the corrupted taint there, even if briefly, if that helps."
(Elyon Hirai)

"Your purpose is not to cleanse them entirely, but to make it easier... and yes, the surroundings would be helpful too, if possible." He pauses, directing his glance to the Hirai twin.

"You'll find out that spirits are very simple creatures, and speak in the tongues long forgotten. All they wish is respect and proper approach - and when given just that, they communicate a lot better with those that wish to bring them solace. Unlike us, humans..."

"They do not hold any complicated motives."

After all, each spirit was the pure embodiment of someone, their very essence. Stripped of mind's thoughts, of carnal desires, of anything that their flesh may crave... nothing left, but their very presence. That presence should speak louder to him than anyone else in here.

"And it's okay if you watch, Suna. I hope you learn much."

It is with that pause Keitaro clears his throat quietly- the speaker of the Veil must be prepared to part the gate that separates spirits and the reality itself, and each time it wasn't easy. He already worked with wisps, with tormented victims of murder and... much worse, but this would be all too different.

In a sense... these spirits are almost like elementals, warped by particular force. In this case, it's Occult.

"O spirits of fallen, hear my call."

"I came to bring you solace and relieve you of your torment to wander these forests for eternity. Take my lifeforce and mana, and ye shall have the voice once more."

"The voice to speak of your woes, of your pain."

Something was appearing. Something... vile. Perhaps Keitaro did not count the proper amount of spiritual presence like this, but it's clear that many whom died here were tormented for eternity and more. His eyes narrow, and he glances to Elyon.

"...Now."

"Begin your part."
(Keitaro)

Past the fear and worry, there lay a growing curiosity. A burning fire to understand, to comprehend and discern the truth behind what Keitaro was attempting to do. Summoning spirits, she had read of it multiple times, yet knew little of the process surrounding such an art.

Setsuna listened to his words, her arms crossing over one another. Perhaps an internal defense mechanism, to separate herself from whatever was about to appear. The sense of dread and corruption remained all the same.

No barrier could quell the senses, not enough to conceal what she felt was coming. Yet she still stood strong, blue eyes gazing straight ahead.

It was a valiant and noble initiative, to lessen the torment of those who had long since passed. Keitaro might have lost some of his resolve in terms of uniting Agartha, his drive to be a hero.

Yet his very actions, here and now- were heroic in their own way. Whether or not it was selflessness or an attempt to strengthen himself was yet to be seen.

She could only wait and watch.
(Setsuna Ukitake)

All they wish is respect and proper approach - and when given just that, they communicate a lot better with those that wish to bring them solace.

Eyes narrow ever so slightly at the Shenlong's words there regarding spirits-- or perhaps it's the way that agonizing buzzing in his head comes to a halt, even if briefly so. No particular response escapes, and the nod he offers is definitely delayed as a single finger brushes past Requiem's scabbard.

Not making any other sound, Elyon simply shifts over to the side, silently watching along- even when Keitaro calls out to the souls, and even when something stirs into the air-- something vile and corrupted to its very core.

For a moment there-- the urge was heavy, and so were the temptations to unsheathe that blade of his, and snap it so, but he held it somehow-- just somehow.

"Right."

Murmured outward alongside the way marble sparks practically explode abouthis form, hands brought together before him as those eyes drift to a bit of close. The swirl about-- Occultic potential at its very peak and yet it's completely tamed there. Despite Requiem's influence; not a single trace of negativity manages to seep deeper into his consciousness.

And just like that; those colors drain and the world around quite literally fades into black and white.

To utilize the essence around oneself and nullify whatever comes tumbling his way-- be it influence of any other magic, or blows. Regardless, this time around, the Hirai simply takes a step further, towards the concentrated corruption which just revealed itself. The Occultism to shroud Dreadwood appeared calm-- at least a small section around their general location.

Closer, and closer, almost as if drawing it towards him-- provoking it in the moment, and yet as soon as those energies and forces drift within his vicinity, the darkened arts certainly do weaken-- almost as if sucked and soaked within the thick grey mist that embraces Elyon's form.

He was still learning to induce nullification onto other forms and creatures-- and although he might not manage to be as effective at that, what he could do was take that essence upon himself-- and weaken its hold by absorbing as much as he could.

"Has a limit... it all won't last forever, so-- back to your part, Kei."
(Elyon Hirai)

This isn't a light-hearted story.

But a story of torment, of many broken fates that met their end here, or had wandered here to seek solace in the presence of many other spirits - only to find their eternal doom. Little by little something materializes infront of them all, the countless essences of people that are long time gone.

Chill comes, and the winds fall still.

It is then that the pictures become clear; the tormented spirits of the perished bear marks of their destiny, some far more gruesome than others... but they do not come aggressively to them. The nullification from Elyon serves about as a means to stave off the Occultic corruption that would drive them aggressive... but the sight of it is better.

The ghosts with slit throats. Those with missing limbs, or their intestines out. The victims of assault. The defiled ones. Killed children and botched unborn. Those that took their life... and all more.

Like the crowd of broken toys, they come to the group. Except, these were no toys... these were the very real people that once existed. Some of them broken by life, and some never given a chance to even exist. The discarded, the lost, the forgotten... one could only wonder how much suffering was amassed in a single place, how many broken threads of fate were all before them.

Perhaps, it is precisely why the creature that attacked them on expedition was so powerful?

The darkness feeds on such things. For a moment, Keitaro's own lips purse... to see so many wicked and wronged, it... hurt. But he must take it upon himself, right? He signed up to be Spiritmancer. He wanted to embrace the difficulties that come with facing the dread of those that couldn't move on. It is precisely such terrible fates that stopped them from passing.

"I-" He must clear his head. A moment passes, and he speaks.

"...I am grateful you all have come. Allow me your passage. Allow me to be your light."

A single hand extends of the Shenlong. One by one, they approach closer to him, taking upon it like it was their last hope for anything in this world. Maybe, to some extent, it really was... and one after another, begins the difficult, personal work of seeing their broken fates up close.

To give up part of himself, so they can be free.
(Keitaro)

Tears began to form, the young Qilin unable to hold back her emotions. Overwhelming, unrelenting, she saw all of those who had their lives stopped short. Those who were once like herself- full of ambition and drive, a future uncertain laying before her.

Only to have it snuffed out. Some of which not even allowed the chance to properly begin their lives. Had she caused some of this, in her life prior?

Balled fists, she gazed upon Keitaro with a newfound sense of admiration. All thoughts of selfish ambition left, seeing him for what he truly was. A hero, selfless enough to help those who others had long since forgotten.

Setsuna had spoken positive words, had a cheery disposition- but it was for naught, considering Keitaro had been the one actually making a difference. No longer would these souls be left in torment, no longer would they be stuck in their dread, so long as he continued his work.

Perhaps they could save all of Agartha, even.

"This is-"

As soon as she began, she also quit, not wanting to break Keitaro's focus. She wiped back her tears, hoping that this would end in joy. Hoping that Keitaro would release them from their captivity, so that they may rest in peace, or whatever may come next.

It is what the Emperor would desire.
(Setsuna Ukitake)

"Calm-- calm."

The whispered words are sharp, practically hissed along, although they're not directed towards himself or the two around him-- instead, they're for something anyone else would assume to be an inanimate object.

It isn't.

Requiem's cries never come to a halt, and as though colorless sparks flicker and that mist swirls about, he'd never admit that the sounds of it, loud and harsh, send just the most agonizing pain throbbing through his head. His ears are ringing, and despite himself, he could barely hold the urge to bring those hands to his temples and press tight.

Perhaps it merely reacted to what was before them-- numerous souls. Ones lost, ones forgotten, ones abandoned-- perhaps it could relate to their pain; their suffering.

The greyed world around them flickers with colors ever so slightly, though he tried his hardest to continue soaking and absorbing the hostile corruption there-- despite the sheer quantity, and despite the Requiem and Synmael's own interference. Even then, he couldn't particularly help the way his legs waver and tremble just the slightest bits.

By the end of it, a single hand does reach out to grasp upon his own forehead, eyes squeezed shut-- yet, he'd hold his magic for as long as he could-- aiming to do sof or as long as Keitaro needed him to. One by one, those souls approach the Shenlong, although he couldn't see or comprehend much of what was going on-- not when his own vision was a tad blurry.

All the way until it would be over.
(Elyon Hirai)

When the light leaves...
Only lost remain.

Somewhere along the line, he was inevitably crushed by life itself and reality that pressured him all around; perhaps it was his own shortcomings, or just the wrong type of people that surrounded him, but... despite those changes? Deep inside, he could not stand aside and watch another suffer like this. Not when he could help it.

No matter how much he tried to make his own heart that of stone.

He just can't. The Shenlong believes that one day this will be his end too - intervening for someone who isn't worth it, or doing something radical to save another, only to perish on his own. But would it be worth that? It's difficult to tell... yet, he wasn't afraid of dying. He wasn't afraid to give it all and more.

Everybody dies.
Not everyone truly lives.

And he feels most alive when he makes a difference such as this. One by one, the lost essences swarm him, finding Keitaro their only available relief- there's only so much mana he can spare, before he has to give more than that... and the dagger he once borrowed digs across his own palm, shedding his own blood. It's fed to spirits, one after another.

After all, he knew that blood is just another form of mana.

"Take this without hesitation. Take it, so that you can move on past what harmed you."

One after another, the spirits undergo spiritual catharsis. They disappear, and in exchange, this lends Keitaro the experience he would need - the very experience to do such things on broader, larger scales. The apparent paleness settles on his face, his eyelids closing half-way down...

He looks worn, with both mana and blood taken.

Such is the price. Nothing is free, and no change can be made without any sacrifice. Only after the lastspirit begins to vanish, gradually undergoing the spiritual catharsis- and only once the last of them is gone over time- he...

… allows himself to fall.

Thankfully, it's a brief collapse, resulting in a sat position on the ground. His jaw droops a little, woozy and tired, trying to catch his breath, but at least he made it. Finally, he looks up at Elyon.

"...Thanks."

It would be a lot more difficult otherwise. Occult-charged spirits, after all, are much more aggressive.
(Keitaro)