..How long had it been since she came here? Since she started acting like this—? Svarog would sit atop the craggy cliff above the churning, black waters. A pair of sharp eyes tracing those hellish waves her father laid claim to. It was… An odd feeling. When she originally started, she seemed so far away from this. Just an idiot playing in shoes too big for her own feet. But… She grew into it, didn’t she? Grew into the lie, grew into the Captain’s Coat He gave her. And… She couldn’t help but look back. To be cautious. She changed, aye. But she wasn’t playing a part for this quest. She wasn’t lying about herself, or deflecting with some sort of premade excuse. No made up story about their days before Templehelm. This was a Priestess’s mission. An Oracle’s status on the line, as she returned to her roots. Something that… She never thought she’d ever have to be again, if she was being honest.
“….You know, I’m a shit daughter.”
She lightly tapped the rocks she sat on, black veins crawling down her hands and up her arms— all the way to her torso, and neck. It was cold. So, very cold. And yet… She spoke. Spoke to the same God that would be casting her to sink or swim, soon. Putting her life on the line to see whether or not his love was misplaced.
“..I ran away from my old Father. Garas, I mean. You probably know him. Old for a human, strict as a Quartermaster. He’s a good man, just…”
…There was a pause there, the Pirate’s clawed hands continuing to tap, tap, tap away at the rocks. The woman trying to pull memories out… Attempting to bring the words to the tip of her tongue.
“I never liked it, you know. Learning the rites. Learning the chants. There’s… Not much you could do back then after all. You… You didn’t have much sway outside. The place where they forced us to. But… I never expected to get stranded here. To meet you properly.”
Svarog would weigh a red book in her other hand— a Dragon’s eye scrawled along its surface. A hint of impatience there. She knew it was worth more than its weight in gold. The combined knowledge of a God itself about its own domains, myths, and monsters. Every inch compiled onto pages older than she. And yet… Even as she gingerly opened the book, stopping her nervous tapping… She knew she wouldn’t find the knowledge she was looking for.
“…I don’t regret it, though. Met a lot of fun people. Got to know you. Fought my fair share of monsters, and made my own plans. You told me to change when I first got here. To transform into something greater. I’ve… Been trying. I hope I made you proud.”
…Approval. That’s all she ever wanted. All she prayed for. She gave her tribute, gave coffers upon coffers just for that purpose. Though Quan’s words still rang true in her head. ‘Everything you do is for him, at this point.’ He wasn’t wrong. Hell, that man had more muscles for brains— but he was smarter than most people gave him credit for. That’s why she liked talking to him, even if she didn’t agree at times. Though… Him being right was also what pissed her off the most. The woman leaking out an annoyed sigh…
“…I’m scared, Father. More scared than I’ve ever been about something. I’ve made all the plans, tried to think of ways to avoid the same fate as other bastards, but.. I don’t know. I told you I’d be prepared for the storm. To find a way through. But… Now that it’s here, just on the horizon… I’m hesitant.”
..Her god was one that favored the individual, not the masses. To prove her worth, she’d be going alone. She knew it was stupid. She knew she wasn’t the smartest, and not the most physically inclined. But she had to try, even if she lost chunks of herself to whatever was lying in wait. Otherwise… What was the point of it all? To prove herself? The Captain closed the book with a small ‘thud’, their acid-marred hand tracing the seabound scripture…
“…I’m not going to give up and run, though. I’m past the stage of being a coward, now. I just.. Want to ask one thing.”
…She knew. She knew she’d be an enemy if she walked out as she was now. Even if she had ‘fun’ in this place, even if she knew it was dangerous… Her goal would likely remain the same: to help her Father gain more power- and perhaps the other Mutens, too. The Emeraldites were on the decline. The 8 had their followers, certainly. But… The Emeraldites had lost some of the keen edges to their swords. The invader was slumbering, not to wake. All the while something was hunting at the periphery, dragged by Wytches of a malevolent force.
…Personally, she could never trust Ephales. Not only due to him being a God of Lies, but because of her own actions. If she wanted to deal with that outside force… She’d do it her way, not his. She wouldn’t endanger herself, nor her God by following the scheme of a trickster. Fragments of the Flow Gem had been collected, a ritual to increase her own power crafted, and even the chance to expand her God’s domain to the surface right in front of her. Drown the followers, pause the God’s assault, at least for a time. It was a simple plot. There were few places the vastness of Drachen’s domain didn’t reach in Templehelm. If she just expanded his hold outside Templehelm… If she just reinforced him to the point he could fight, and control more… Maybe, just maybe she wouldn’t need to worry about him anymore. If the Wytches could not breathe without brackish water filling their lungs— or if the Invader and his following were crushed under the weight of depths untold… If they just couldn’t push him down anymore… She’d be satisfied.
“..I know you don’t care. That you’re content to sit in the Abyss, even now. But… Please. Just for me, try to keep going. To stay even after I’m gone. The land’s lost you for long enough, Father.”
There was hesitation there, the Pirate about to say something more… Before her eyes seemed to catch something in the water. A small glint at first— something she could’ve sworn was the crest of a wave. But as it drew closer… She saw it. A bottle with a letter bound inside.
The wind was changing.
“…You never were a talker, were you?”
There was only a grim chuckle, now… Before the thudding of boots echoed through the craggy cliffs. A daughter heading to meet her destiny— an execution or inheritance, she wasn’t quite sure.
