(1865-10-20) We are Free!
We are Free!
Summary: Bryad moves ahead with trying to help 'fix' Emilia…the results are not what they expected…. (Warning : Maybe disturbing to some viewers. Parental discretion is advised. It is an Emilia log, it's creepy)
Date: 1865-10-20
Related: Other logs relating to Bryad wishing to help 'fix' Emilia, and other Emilia logs. And precedes Extracting a Promise
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Bryad  Emilia  Raelyn  

Galenthia - Ironhold - Roseguard Castle
A private chamber in Roseguard, see scene set.
1865-10-20

With a week or so under his belt to recover from the harrowing experience of being lost in the woods, Bryad has also had plenty of time to meditate and pray on the proper course of meditations through which to guide young Lady Cassomir, wounded as she is in the soul, and in need of healing. His notebooks have grown dense, his original notes on her case having spawned interlinear notes and thorough marginalia as he turns the courses over in his mind. And he sent along ahead of him some of his basic equipment, but he's been asking around the last few days for a tall painter's easel to set up in the room where the prayers will take place. And so it has, in front of a small couch which he has elevated on top of boxes, with another box in front of the setup to use to ascend into place. A table lies nearby with a case open upon it, bearing a collection of rods, some of finely crafted glass, others which look to be metal prongs. And a stack of papers.

There was some measure of curiosity mixed with a hint of trepidation for this appointed…session. Emilia really didn't know what exactly to expect, it wasn't think things hadn't been tried before. There had been lot of prayers, and the Archbiship Sirrah had seen after her initial recovering, and checked in yet on her from time to time. Likely to make sure she'd not gnawed any faces off. Er. Emilia peers curiously into the room that had been set aside for Bryad to make use of and setup for this purpose, and allow a bit of privacy to the whole matter. The setup…is eyed just a little. There were huntresses that escorted, though her sister had been informed as well of it all, if she wished to keep an eye upon…things. "Brother of Bryad…I am of here." Stepping into the room, wearing a simple tunic and leggings, customary enough..well when her leather jerkin wasn't dawned as well.

Raelyn arrives only moments behind Emilia, eschewing with a mere gesture Emilia's escort away. There is a severe look about her countenance, having gotten word of what it is that Emilia has agreed to. But she is not here to talk Emilia out of this. She stares at Bryad for a long, and what may be uncomfortable from the cold-blooded Huntress-killer that Raelyn as a repuation for, at least within certain circles that the brother may - or may not - be privy to. Finally, she says, "As am I." Letting Bryad know by that stare, and by her presence, she is ready - and will - react to the least danger that Emilia is put in. She may not have the most open mind, when it comes to this particular affair.

"My Lady Emilia, how good to see you," Brother Bryad begins, offering her warm and cheery greetings in an effort to make her feel at home, comfortable, safe. Little does he know it probably does the opposite— it's sort of his default, after all. "How are you feeling to-day?" he takes up a pad of paper and a stub of graphite in order to take down anything of note. "I have some tea, if you would like some tea. It has some soothing herbs in it, nothing stronger than a bit of lavendar and chamomile," commonly enough put in teas to elicit a mild state of relaxation. "My Lady Raelyn, mistress Huntresses, there is plenty to go about, if you'd like some, yourselves." And, indeed, he had no idea how many people to expect, so he's brewed quite a bit of tea. And there are also cookies, because, well. What's tea without cookies? He'll pour a bit of the tea for himself, first, dosing it with a little bit… err… more than a little bit of honey. Just in case anyone in the room, *AHraelynEM*, doesn't trust him not to put something horrid in the tea. Plus, he could use a bit of relaxation, himself.

"It is of good to be of seeing you as well." There is a small incline of her head offered, but unsurprisingly, Emilia does not offer a smile in return. It's not like she minds his cherry greeting, but by the One how could someone be that cheery. All. The. Time. "I am of feeling of well. Some of neervous," she does admit," for of not quite of knowing what to be of expecting." There seems a moment of indecision about the tea, but the mention of soothing and seeing just how much of it was brewed,"A little bit of tea would be of lovely, my lord. " More like, what is a Bryad without some cookies! Emilia gives the setup another brief look over, a glance to her sister before she looks back to Bryad and inquires,"Should there be of a place I should be taking to in of parciular?"

"Lord Arkanin." Raelyn's voice is not venomous, or that of one fille with wroth and vitriol, but neither is it anything other than coldly cordially polite, and utterly-matter of fact. If she thinks the man audacious enough to poison Emilia, she says naught of it. She does, however, move to sit near enough Bryad so that it would not be difficult for her to - reach for him, if need be. "Do not mind me. I am merely here to observe. And protect," she says to Bryad. There is a glance to Emilia, briefly. "If you get uncomfortable. At -any- juncture, you stop this." Then her gaze goes back to Bryad. "My sister desires to see what you've to offer. Be certain you do not overstep your abilities, Brother."

"Of course. I don't wish at all to cause my Lady Emilia any discomfort. If at any point you wish me to stop the prayers, only let me know. You'll be answering some simple mathematical problems for me, my Lady— is that alright? Only simple adding, it shan't be difficult, at all. It will, as it were, distract the active and wakeful portion of your spirit, while my voice can speak directly to what lies beneath— the real… core of you, as it were," he tries to give her some expectation of the afternoon's events. "A few questions, first, though, if I may… how well-rested are you, my Lady? Do not think me forward in asking-" oh, the Arkanin propriesty- "But did you sleep well, or poorly? Did you dream?"

Emilia does take note of where Raelyn settles herself, perhaps oddly amused by it, that or mildly fearful for Bryad. Emilia does know her sister afterall. A nod goes to Raelyn,"I will of do so, if of feeling so comes." A glance between both Brother Bryad and her sister, to assurre them. Though there is a minor rise of the brow when the whole matter of mathematical problems is brough up. "Aye, that should be of alright. I am of doing of math when of helping of the Master Steward, it should not be of a problem." It sounded interesting, even if Emilia was not quite certian herself just how…it would work. Taking a few sips of the tea that had been managed, before Emilia nods to his questions. "You of may. I am of rested as well as of ever. It was of a good night of sleep, perhaps of some waking for of knowing of this today. It was of a good of night, there were not of dreams."

"And have you felt at all feverish in the last few days? Felt any chills or woken up in a sweat?" Bryad tosses out that follow-up, jotting some notes as he takes tea and listens to the answers.

Raelyn has said her peace, and stoic, remains ever-watchful. Alert. Tense, and ready to act. And it does not seem to be any measure of facade put on for Bryad's benefit. She waits, she watches.

"Nay, not of feverish…" There is a slight hesitation though when it comes to the later quetion. Emilia giving a faint glance towards her sister….who knew well enough that Emilia did not always sleep well. Then again…recently half the castle was 'treated' to a reminder about that. "No of chills…though of a few days of ago, there was of awaking to of a sweat. It is of happening of sometimes. As of there of sometimes waking from dreams of nigthmares."

"Interesting," Bryad comments, chewing on a cookie while taking notes. "Dreams which induce fluctuations in body temperature tend to indicate a deep disturbance at the base of the soul. How many days ago did this last happen?"

Neither imbibing in … cookies … or tea, or insinuating herself in Bryad's questions, Raelyn allows Emilia to answer herself, as she sees fit. She's only here to watch. And observe. And make sure nothing goes wrong.

"I would be of saying there is of much disturbance to of the soul," comments Emilia. Or perhaps an admission of the truth. Certainly not a thing that was unknown to her family. Though just how disturbed…might be a different story. "Of two of days of ago, of waking with of cold sweats….of perhaps…a week to be of waking with of screaming." The last has Emilia giving a glance to Raelyn as if to confirm of the time frame. She had woken her sister that time around.

"Screaming is much more usual, and is associated with a disturbance to the thirdmost fold of the spirit from its surface, where, I believe, the trouble at your core is most reverberating. It's rather like, you see… a stringed instrument," Bryad takes the time to explain. "One chord may be harmonious, because the strings are tuned to one another at the octave, or the half of the octave— or they can be discordant. Come, if you're ready, there's a couch appointed for you. Sit quite straight, without making yourself uncomfortable, and place your hands on your knees, with your palms upward. Then I'll put up the paper and you can tell me whether you can see it well or not."

"Is it of?" It was not exactly an uncommon occurance for Emilia as it were, well less so then it once was. That first year…might have involved a lot of drugging for everyone to get a peaceful night's sleep. A small nod occurs,"And I am of…discordant, aye?" The cup of tea is set aside,"I am of ready," she move to the couch so appointed for the purpose. Settling to it and sitting up straught upon it, and well she is a noble and that can be rather straight before discomfort hits. her hand settles just so upon her knees, with palms up as requested.

"No, rather the opposite," Bryad smiles. "The innermost core of your spirit is attuned well to the thirdmost fold, which is how the corruption of the one has transferred so readily to the corruption of the other. They… work in harmony, and so they interact with one another, they— share characteristics, you understand," he tries to gesture with his hands to give a visual representation of what's going on in his head. But then he goes to pick up a piece of paper and pin it into place on the heightened easel. "Can you read these numbers?" There are six, in a column: 4, 3, 2, 7, 6, 5.

There is a soft little "Oh," from Emilia. Not entirely certain it is a good or bad thing that her corruption….is harmonious within itself. A disturbing harmony? But then she is turning her attention to the easel, a thing that was easily provided when requested…given her own painting hobby…Looking at the paper before giving a nod,"Aye, I can of read them." Giving a quick little recite of them even,"4, 3, 2, 7, 6 and of 5."

Watching this with a critical eye, Raelyn tries to make out what, exactly, Bryad is attempting. But having no understanding of it, and not seeing any threat by it, she remains - for the moment, open minded enough. And lets the Brother and Emilia continue.

"It's neither a good thing nor a bad thing; only a thing, which now we know, and can work with," Bryad smiles at Emilia, trying to assure her that her soul is a beautiful and not a broken thing, despite some… wounds. "Grand!" he utters briskly, when she reads the chart. "What you'll do, to start, is read the topmost number, then add the number below it and enunciate their sum. Then add the next number, and enunciate that sum, and so on to the bottom of the list. Then you'll add the topmost number again, and repeat the process. Go as slowly as you need to in order not to make a mistake. And if you should ever feel the urge to stop— as though you were too tired to keep counting— give into the urge and let yourself fall to sleep. Hey?" he smiles, going to his case and withdrawing the largest of the metal prongs and the largest of the glass wands, the wand tinged with some additive which colors a red swirl into its makeup. "I'm not going to touch you with either of these," he's quick to assure Emilia— or possibyl Raelyn. "I'm only going to use them to make some noises to help you focus. Alright?"

Emilia gives a little nod when Bryad goes about that assurance. Staying seated as she is, palms up…and then a look back to the numbers when he explains what she is to do with them. "I can be of doing of that, aye. " Though the prong and wand brought out do have her eyes pulled from the numbers to them, but then he is explaining that they'll not be touching her and will be making…noise. "Aye, of alright." Her dark eyes turning back to the sheet of paper and that column of numbers. A small little breathe and then the numbers start to come,"7, 9, 16, 22, 27, 31, 34, 36," and on they go…with a fair bit of ease for a good while. For how tattered her poor soul might be or 'touched' as it was said she was, Emilia was not exactly stupid and actually did well in those lessons with the Master Steward. Though once they get high enough, there is a touch longer between numbers being spoken as more thought is having to be put into the process.

"Good," Bryad lowers his voice to a murmur, "Good." Then, striking the metal fork against the wooden arm of the chair, it begins to reverberate in a low tone, a deep and resonant C, which sings out loud at the outset and then slowly descends in volume while maintaining perfect pitch. He closes his eyes and brings the glass wand into the proximity of the tuning fork until the glass catches the vibrations in the air and begins to sing in counterpoise to the original sound, the vibrations carrying a certain sympathy between metal and glass. moving about behind Emilia, he moves the paired instruments from one side of her head to the other, then places them directly over the crown of her head, letting her feel the vibration crawling down the back of her neck, down her spine. "This is the music of the innermost sphere, which maintains, unmoved, eternal, while the world moves all around it. Feel it, where it lives, at the base of your spine, your foundation, your person, your being, the seed from which the rest of your has grown, that thing without which you are not, and with which you shall ever be, pure, untainted, invulnerate," he intones the words in a drowsy, hypnotic tone, moving the glass closer to and further from the fork in order to modulate the sound of the waves, keeping her ears from acclimating, the pitch ever the same but the volume changing to keep it from fading to the background. "Breathe in, and feel your breath move to your core, nourish it with the music of the sphere. Breathe out, and know that you are whole, pure, inviolate, invunerate, that all which is not that Eternal You is only Other, and breathe it out, breathe it away from You, out, into your fingers, your toes. In, to your core. Out… to your fingertips. Breathe," he whispers, striking the fork again, in time with the word. "And out. Breathe," he strikes the fork again, "And out."

Bryad spends 1 luck points on not messing this stuff up, plz.
<FS3> Bryad rolls Hypnotism+25: Amazing Success.

Eyes do flicker away form that paper when the first stirking of that metal fork occurs, but Emilia does soon focus back to there, those numbers still spilling forth. A sea of numbers! For one considered to be touched…even feeble minded by many, she was doing rather well with adding and reciting that series of numbers. A faint flick of her eyes to that presense at the side of her head. It was a little odd, but none of this was particularly…normal. Listening to the tones the come from the fork and wand, that drowsy sleep inducing sort of tone Bryad uses to speak with. The words sinking in, numbers tumbling out. Though they slow even more as those breathes are pulledin and slowly let back out. As that sleepiness is felt he spoke of, fought for a moment perhaps before it is given into and eyelids droop a bit, her fingers relaxing in those hands with their palsm up on her legs.

Raelyn may not sense the full danger that may or may not lurk within her sister, but she knows this is a time that is - critical. She does not watch the number-sheets, nor focus on the words Bryad is speaking. She instead watches both Emilia, and Bryad. She doesn't speak, less she ruin this moment for her sister - honoring Emilia's wishes to at least attempt this thing. But her stare, that cold practicality that has ruled her expression since she walked in the door hasn't lessened in the least. If anything, it's gotten even more intense. She knows, if only in part, things that could come out of this.

Bryad sees that that outer layer of Emilia's spirit has fallen to sleep, exhausted by the mental exercise of culling that great harvest of numbers, and yet she still sits straight, in that comfortable position, the lower portions of her soul still open to receive his words. He steps from behind her, snikking along silently in his little slippers and holding the reverberating wand out toward her as he circles the couch, the noise fading by degrees, until it hits that point at which one is unable to know whether it is still being heard, or whether all that's left is the sound of silence lingering in ones eats. By then, he's pulled the third fork and wand from the case, and he strikes the fork, sounding a thrumming E, bringing a yellow-tinged wand of glass in front of him, standing before Emilia, now that she no longer has to read the numbers, and moving the new set of implements in front of her as though dowsing toward an area at her midsection, "This is the music of the threefold second, that of your soul which feeds, which craves, which strives, which hopes. Which moves about You like the light of the sun o'er the land unmoved, changing day by day, or month by month, or year by year. Hopes may be dashed, desire quenched, striving in vain. But You are eternal, You partake of One, and One is with You, and gives His eternal spirit to You, which may not be touched. Breathe in, feel that strength of your eternal spirit, and let your hopes renew with the blessed light of the Sun on the threefold second of your soul. Evil has visited You, but Evil will never Be You. Darkness passes. You abide. Breathe in, feel your strength. Breathe out, fill your spirit with sunlight. You are stronger than your sorrow, you are stronger than your plight."

Breathes continue in that slow pattern he'd directed within that lulling voice, Emilia breathing in slow and out in an equally slow fashion. And it was true, numbers and calculations could be a tiring affair. It was easy enough to fall asleep over a ledger after awhile. With her eyes having drooped along, that more instruments are being brought about rather goes unnoticed, least actively so. And certainly unbenounced to them is that there is 'another' within Emilia that also pays attention. Perking a little even as Emilia herself is lulled into this trance by the priestling. And oh, that war rages on within her…each spirit listening to the words that come from Bryad. A small twitch of her lips coming. A tick that seems to repeat itself at differrent phrases…Such as being eternal…evil having visited, but not being. There is almost flicker of what might be a smirk that touches to her lips at that one. The breathes continue, there is a fullness that seems to settle, a strength developig to them. Another twitch of her lips.

<FS3> Raelyn rolls Perception: Good Success.

There is a low tone, a warning measure of her words, as Raelyn speaks low - not so to disturbe Emilia, but, the words come just the same. "You are treading thin, Brother. Be careful." She hasn't missed the tells on Emilia's face.

Bryad sees the smile, the steadying of his patient's breathing— he can't help but think it a good sign, that she's finding peace in the depth of communion with One and her innate Self. That Raelyn's words are a bafflement to him is evident by the look he gives her. To him, this could hardly be going better. Emilia is well in teh trance, his words seem to be meeting her her innermost spirit. What could he possibly be overlooking? He lets the yellow tone fall to the same pitch of silence that the red did, layering silence over silence, stillness come to each level of the soul as he helps her gain the strength to purify and purge them. Then, the fifth fork and wand are extracted from the case at hand, the note of G produced, clarion and bright, like a star piercing through the pale blue of early evening— the color infused into the wand. "Listen to the song of your threefold third, that resonance of your soul which speaks, calls out, joins in a community of shared ideals. Which gives voice to desire and declaration to the Self." A third layer, atop the other two. "There are many things which may take away the voice, make those around you unable to hear. But your Self which it declares be whole and full, unmoving, inviolate, invulnerate. Breathe in, and feel its strength. Breathe out, and feel the sunlight fill your spirit. Breathe in, and feel its strength, breathe out, and feel the breeze upon your cheeks, your throat, the palms of your hands, flowing from one," he holds the paired implements over one palm, letting it feel the vibrations, "To the other. Moving around and past your Being. Give voice to your pain, let it free, let it dissipate into the air, let it go, breathe in, breathe out."

Another switch of the lips as Emilia listens on to the change in tones and those words that come. Breathes are drawn in and let back out. Oh, if one could just be a witness inside Emilia's head right now. The changing of control, the conversations in progress between that which has come to exist, intwined within the young woman's head and body. Perhaps two parts of a whole, perhaps two wholes within a part, it was not certain. But then only one outside of Emilia truly even know there was something else within that little head of hers, that which she fought against upon a daily basis. That is only one til now. While one aspect of that spirit is doing as the words say, basking in the sun and the warmth, the world that was before it was torn assunder. When pain and agony was visited upon her in every way imaginable, when pain and fear beyond comprehension was learned physically, mentally…and spiritually. To the extent, her simblings coudl guess at, but never turly understand and truly know what she suffered in those days. But that other aspect, it drew strength and took advantage of this opening, it was rare it could control and have what it wished. To be dominate and come forth, those lips turn to a smirk that holds. It had a dark edge to it, and for all the solemn edge that hung about Emilia, this was /not/ a look that ever seemed to occur before, it would be odd even to Raelyn's eyes. The lid of her eyes start to flutter in the last turn of his words. Before they fly open, and those eyes are dark…black even…not the eyes of the Emilia they know, there is rage and wrath in them, anger that marks her features. Indeed, this was not a side of Emilia Raelyn would have ever seen, let alone Bryad. And poor Bryad for those eyes lock in upon him, the voice that comes..well it's odd to, airy and entirely off,"We are free! Her pain is ever lasting for she is ours. As you shall be, your soul is sweet." And in the blink of an eye that Emilia-being is launching at Bryad, a dark gleam of hunger mixed with that anger in those black eyes.

Raelyn spends 1 luck points on To be the next excorsist!.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Emilia=hands Vs Raelyn=hands+25
< Emilia: Failure Raelyn: Amazing Success
< Net Result: Raelyn wins - Crushing Victory

<FS3> Bryad rolls Forbidden Lore: Success.

Okay. That /wasn't/ what Raelyn was expecting. At /all/. No. Not in the least. She was expecting nightmares. Recollections. Revelations and revisiting of memories Emilia had never told her about. But she's on her feet, in an instant, and in that instant she's intercepting Emilia, wrenching her sister's arms behind her back and forcing her to the ground in a perfect and flawless submission manuever, utilizing her knee, and her position to immobolize Emilia rather effectively.

Dark eyes turn on Bryad, hard, and harsh. "Cora. Hannah. In here. Now." Her voice snaps, like a whipcord command, not a shout, but loud enough to be heard through the door which immediately opens.

The two Huntresses seems surprsied when they come into the scene, uncertain of what to make of it. Until Raelyn starts issuing commands. "Escort the Brother to his quarters. He is to speak to no one. You. Are to speak to no one. He is to remain in his quarters, until I can speak with him. Alone. Go."

Looking at Bryad the entire time, she continues, not losing focus at all. "I -told- you to be careful. I -told- you you were boardering on danger. But you didn't -listen-." Yes. She's upset. Worried. And she's not certain how to deal with any of this. But, she's not about to expose any more of it to an 'outsider' than already has been done. "Leave. Go with my Huntresses. We will speak. Soon." She pushes on Emilia, to keep her firmly into the floor of the bedroom, and not give her a chance to get up. Not - while Emilia is not herself.

Bryad had been expecting things very similar to what Raelyn was expecting. Bringing of old, dead, rotting thoughts to the surface, purging them and letting them free of that tight space in which they'd been jammed. It's really the point— to bring things to the light, to let them be spoken and heard freely, and then to let them go. But that… thing… that… thing? that comes to the surface, that was by no means what the Brother was expecting. The eyes that were not Emilia's eyes… those drew a noise like a squeak from the brother who really has no idea what he's about, anymore. The glass wand falls from his hand and shatters on the floor. The metal wand falls from his other hand and makes a thud-clatter-thud. "Uh—" he begins, but he doesn't really have words, other than that, and is soon… politely… escorted away.

The Emilia-thing was not expecting the interception, a thing clearly seen by the surprise upon her face. An expression that is soon changing to rage at being denied that sweet soul in silk stockings! A scream is soon coming as she is being forced to the ground, caught off guard and Emilia was not exactly a heavy weight here. But not a scream of pain, one filled with angry and frustration. Another scream slips as she is fully immobalized, though this one is tinged with something Raelyn would be familiar with, others had probably only heard of…that edge of an unholy wail. And there is even an attempt or three to gnash her teeth at Raelyn, indeed….this was /not/ the sister Raelyn knew. Those eyes were changed, black and filled with malice of unnatural proportions. It wasn't quite a grin, that look that went to Bryad as he was escorted away, all those teeth bared at him. Just what would have happened if she'd gotten to him? Nothing good, that is for certain. "She is ours. Always!" A straining occurs to try to get away from Raelyn, another scream of frustration,"Ours!" It is a struggle that continues for a time. Before a scream changes midway through and turns into a sob as Emilia goes limp beneathe Raelyn.

Raelyn is quiet, sober, the entire time. She is silent, too. She waits, while the Emilia-thing struggles, screams, endures it all. She's gone to the place where she goes when she has to kill, that cold, detached mannerism so as not to be affected by the fact it's her sister. It only partially works.

"Emilia?" She asks, her voice quiet, but utterly cautious. Her grip on her sister beneath her doesn't slacken. She's well aware of that the thing that inhabits her sister's frame now could well play on her heartstrings and trick her.

Emilia remains slack underneathe Raelyn, the sobs are quiet and likely felt as much as heard by Raelyn, with how she has her sister pinned to the floor. It is a moment before Emilia responds to that quiet inquiry. "Not..of yet…" words coming between sobs and odd breathes…"still of making of thoughts right," how many times had Raelyn heard her sister say that before? About needing to get her thoughts right? "Move of…" Then there was a growl of sorts, a tensing, though Emilia didn't try to struggle as before. It passed in a few moments and her form went slack again. Another turn of a sob, there had been peace, a harmony so long absent for a few moments….all lost again, nevermind what else had happened. There was no undoing it, that which she had struggled so hard to hide these years…Was rather now unhidden. And then the hiccups started.

"You are my sister," Raelyn says, with quiet ferverence. "And I will not foresake you," she promises. There is no scolding, for that which has been hidden. No blame. "And you are stronger than that which resides within you. You are Cassomir. And the One protects you."

Hiccups and sobbing, it was a delightful combination, not that being pinned to the floor was all that pleasant, but Emilia wasn't trying to escape her sister either. There is a breathe drawn before she hiccups again. "I am of knowing of this, mine-sister." Emilia coming to speak softly, her words around the hiccups that have settled in. "The thoughts of are ordered of enough…for you to be getting of off…" Adding after another hiccup,"Or of not…until that cell is of readied." A faint reference back to something she once had told her sister…just well it was Jaren who was going to have to do it, not Raelyn.

Raelyn's hand lets one of Emilia's arms go. She instructs, very slowly, "Emilia. Listen to me. Carefully. I want you to move. Slowly. And only a little. Enough so I can look into your eyes. And no more. Do not attempt to get up. Only shift your position." The pressure of the knee lifts, but Raelyn still has advantage, and the grip on Emilia's other arm she can use as fulcrum if needed to leverage another hold. "I will release you when I am certain it has passed."

When that arm is let go, Emilia makes no immediate attempt to move. Granted at that moment, Raelyn is yet with that knee centered in her back. Her head nods a little at Raelyn's instructions. She lays still yet for a moment or two one that preasure has lifted from her back before she does slowly shift, moving her body just a little, mostly to faciliate moving her head to look to Raelyn. Those black eyes are gone and the dark brown ones Raelyn would know are restored. A resignation of sorts has settled into her solemn features, and there is all sorts of wetness from the tears that fell with the sobs that had come. Emilia looks at her sister a moment before she says softly,"It is never of passed, it is only of fought, mine-sister. "

Raelyn then shifts her position, to draw and pull Emilia up, slowly. At first, the older sister kisses the brow of her younger sibling, before embracing in a tight, vicious sort of hug. "Then," she whispers back, "You are stronger than I, sister-mine."

Emilia rolls over full as Raelyn shifts and seeks to draw her up. Her head dipping just a little at that kiss to her brow. There is just a brief pause before Emilia is fiercely returning that hug. "I must of be…strong…if I of let it of win, I risk of what remains of mine-family."

It's a good full minute, at the very least, before Raelyn lets Emilia go. Or, rather, lessens the hug. She keeps her sibling near, and close still. Her fingers move, to wipe away the dampness on the girl's cheeks. There is no smile, on Raelyn's face. Worry, some. Only a little shows through the solemn mask. She, now, has to be strong for her sister. "There will be no cell, if I can help it." Not even now. "But, I will need to write. I will summon Sirrah. And, our brother to return home." Her hand rests on Emilia' cheek, warm, and tender. "We will find a way to make you whole. If it is the last thing I do, Emilia. By the One, so I swear it." It all makes sense, now. Or, much of it.

Proof, though, that Raelyn -is- a good sister? She hasn't yet asked: Why didn't you tell us of this? Or 'Why did you hide this from us?'.

In that time, there is no attempt to flee, or worse….gnaw on Raelyn. Emilia simply holds the sisterly-embrace just as fiercly. Pulling away just a little when there is that lessening and tears are being wiped along. "I am of knowing…Sirrah must be of sent of for…and of Jaren. There will be much of questions." How she hated the questions. But how could she avoid answering them now? And no doubt the questions Raelyn does not ask now, will be asked then. There was some edge of resignation to what her fate will be. "There may not be of choice, one they are of here…of cell. What if there is of no of way to make me of whole? To of quiet…of them?"

There is a moment of quiet before Emilia speaks again softly,"Do not be of harsh with of him….he could not have of known…He was of just trying to of help. " Obviously speaking about the poor Bryad who was ushered out earlier. "It is more of mine fault…I should have been of speaking with him…of telling as Jaren said was of permitted. "

"I am neither planning to be harsh with him," which, in Raelyn's case might be a different perception than what Emilia thinks harsh is, "Or to lock him up until Sirrah gets here. I do plan to talk to him. And be certain that he does not share the information. Ever. With anyone else outside of Sirrah, or our family." And that might involve - a promise. Or a threat. Sometimes the lines could be blurred with such things.

"The fact you have held this in check for so long speaks to your strength to contain it, Emilia." Her tone softens, and she hugs Emilia again. Gently. Reassuring. "And I'll be damned before I see you in a cell. It only came out when - he doused your will as one would a candle. As long as your will is lit, it is clear that which has -," she strives for the word, "Attempted to overtake you remains defeated. And now we know the truth of it, that thing itself may be washed away." She has at least some confidence, in that fact. The fact they never knew - or at least, so Raelyn believes - what was wrong with Emilia? Well. This may change things. "There is hope." Now? Now Raelyn smiles. Just barely. "Have faith. For me?"

"That should be of requested, of aye, as Jaren was of speaking…Of knowledge of mine…truth to be of a test. For of things….If he is of willing, I would of wish to of apologize…after I have of time..to order of thoughts. Emilia takes a small breathe,"And of me? I will be of taking of time to of mine room…" Since she said no cell! "Will I to be of kept of there til Sirrah or Jaren is of coming of home?"

Emilia gives a little nod,"It is of tiring of at times, but it must be of done. Of Aye?" What choice did she had? She'd made the mistake once to give up…but she wasn't about to offer that up right now. "Aye…I will have of faith…hope…for of you, mine-sister….for mine-family. "

"You should write Aughen, and let him know that you will see him as soon as you're able, but duty confines you to the castle for the next little while," Raelyn says, quietly. "You are not confined to solely your room, but you are - under no circumstance, to leave the castle proper. Until Jaren and Sirrah return. I do not believe any ill will happen further, but you understand my desire for caution." She kisses Emilia's temple, lightly. "Now. Shall you and I go speak to Bryad?"

Emilia gives a little nod of her head,"I will of send of a message to of him….may he of visit if his of duty of allows?" It was not a thing she counted on and she did try not to impose upon his duties and job. "I am on understanding, and will of be of keeping to of the cate of proper. I of promise. " There is a small breathe before Emilia nods,"Of aye, to be of speaking to of Broth of Bryad….least if he is of wishing to of see me again." So soon. If ever.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License