Dirty Laundry Often Smells

  Sneaking through the Ruby Tower, Edith has learned a lot.

  She always knew there were dark secrets hidden, the elves make no secret of their cruelty but the specifics and actual acts were a different story.

  A more recent example would be the animal parts smuggled under a label of tomatoes, an elf barking orders to ensure that it remains hidden from the public. All of the ones near extinct mere preparations for future plans of idle curiosity.

  There's the plans of what comes next. Persons within cages, selected tests and vials, and candidates stalked from shadows and will be hooked by dreams. They crave for an Achilles or Talos, a pathway to elysium. And they will do whatever it takes for this goal.

  And in one of the more simple rooms is a line of people, each being drawn ichor. The official reason being a check up due to the recent wave of sickness but in reality, the ichor is stockpiled to be used as a source of magic.

  She can't do anything about it though, not for the long run.

  Still, if one or two containers happened to spill or go missing... Well that's their problem.

  The Devil's In The Details

  CONSTITUENTS:

  ? 6 planks of Narra wood

  ? 100 grams of powdered wildfire

  ? a body of a raven

  ? 3 vials of Red

  ? 3 vials of Orange

  ? 3 vials of Yellow

  ? A list of personal instructions

  ? Essence of angerburningrageincinerate

  Edith Brightwing sets the narra wood down in a circle to function as a base for the power source.

  She carefully sprinkles the powered wildfire at the center and uses a match to light the empty center on fire.

  She gives the growing fire the body of a raven as a motive, to become a harbinger of doom, a halt to progress.

  She adds the vials in careful order, red for power, orange for control and yellow to serve as it's heart.

  She tosses the envelop containing her personal instructions to it, to give it directions.

  It eats it, flames growing and stabilizing.

  Edith adds the harvested essence and let the flames grow and let the heat grow so smoldering that it burns just to stay near it.

  She doesn't care.

  She channels the fire through a sigil etched onto her skin and let it burn and grasp at her, willing it to be warmth.

  She connects with it, additional fuel to a raging wildfire.

  She swallowed the pain, it was necessary.

  It all was.

  Dolls and Dialogues

  Curiosity begets curiousity begets learning, so the cycle goes.

  But in this cycle, books literally fly from shelves into the hands of the waiting reader. Unlike the previous cycles, the hands that carefully flips through the old pages are razor thin and sharp.

  The vessel drinks in all the information it could get from these walls.

  The Workshop is beautiful, it's limits only the imagination of it's owner but it wasn't the outside world.

  It wondered about history, the fictions they imagined outside and what else could be accomplished by words, words that it cannot speak.

  And even more, it wonders if it could grasp it's own existence like the people outside. It wondered if it could eat food like those outside, feel true grass and dirt under it's fingers and above all curiosities and passing thoughts, it wondered if it could too create like them, understand the world and how it takes and give it's own.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Through pages and pages of stories and accounts of knights fighting something bigger than themselves and left scarred, the seers and their grave prophecies, and reborn witches imbued of magic shades.

  It wondered and wanted more, to wander in the pages of the darkling divine, about magic and the special ways the outsiders have chosen their shades and wielded them through whatever channels they could.

  A unicus, they called it, forged by personality, will and a mix of colors.

  Though most of all, it can't be mimicked.

  Could it also gain one? Create and breathe it's own painted imagination?

  It didn't know, but isn't that what discovery is for?

  And maybe when it manages to create the greatest magic of them all, maybe it'll gain a name, a beautiful one.

  It looked around, wondering where to start its' own experiments.

  It follows the beat of the heart watching under the floorboards, to a corner unseen by even by the Owner of the Workshop.

  The orange leaves fall outside despite there not being an outside. It's always autumn here, the chill of the season is still felt inside despite the fireplace and the decaying plants within are telltale signs of the season.

  The world only extends to Edith's limits, an endlessly large house, an everlasting autumn and halls filled with nothing but books and equipment.

  The house always felt a little cold like this.

  But the frigid atmosphere is comforting in the way childhood often gives us the softest impressions of the subtle shadows that poison our wells.

  Still, the vessel wants more, the promise of being useful, the pursuit of knowledge and a concrete identity.

  Wool Over the Heart

  She looks up from her work, just finished with creating counter circles against energy circles. It'd be easier if she could just do draining circles but they clearly had different power sources.

  She sighed, no rest for the wicked indeed.

  A clack brings her attention to the corner of the Workshop where the vessel accidentally spilled too much water on one of the aurora flowers.

  It shakily picks up the watering can and clumsily dries out the spill, struggling greatly to do it.

  A child must be taught in all the ways of living, to know the world, to live for themself and to care.

  But caring is always hard, a struggle to maintain feelings continuously in flux as the seasons change and as people followed suit.

  Edith sighs and goes to help the vessel, who's incorrectly wringing the rag.

  "You're suppose to do it like this." She takes another rag and demonstrates.

  In the end, she ends up helping in cleaning up the spill.

  The cold spill was easily cleaned but the cold feeling stayed in their hands.

  Usually the cold would easily dissipate, but it was extremely cold inside the Workshop.

  No matter how many candles were lit, it was still cold and always will be cold.

  Iron In The Fire

  With shaking hands does Edith finally rest.

  Everything's prepared, the sigils are ready and so are the back ups though she suspects she won't need them.

  All energy potions are freshly made, ensuring that she has enough ichor to power everything up.

  No one suspects a thing. All spills and stolen items are blamed on each other, each assuming the other is lying.

  Everything's falling into place, it's almost like a dream.

  Too good to be true, her heart beats with excitement just like the rest of the Ruby Tower.

  Still, she goes to sleep.

  But instead of rest, something calls to her, someone different.

  Out of curiosity, she answers.

  A Kelpie Can't Be Made To Drink Water

  Rain pitter-patters within the space between words and actions.

  Many have been called here, a void that exists for chances, to feel the full weight of the world and reflect.

  Buried here are remnants, an old tale that once flourished.

  An umbrella twirls, letting the dark rain swish around the drawn void while still acting as shelter from the rain.

  A well leaking colors stands in between two figures, one overflowing with subtle power and the other radiating a whirlwind of emotions. But both knowing where they are.

  Here lies the guardian and the maestro.

  The void is still despite the tragedy that will begin outside it.

  A turmoil that can still be avoided, however unlikely.

  Edith looks around, torn between awe at the sacred ground and confusion as to why she's here.

  "Tragedy is the beat where the heart leads." The umbrella stops swirling as the voice echoes.

  Edith startles as she faces the guardian.

  "Why am I here?" She tried to keep her tone steady but her trembling undermines it.

  "You hold something deep in your chest, Edith Brightwing. The future you've chosen is volatile, for that you must reflect." The guardian tips her umbrella to Edith.

  The Wellspring of Colors glows ominously at the spoken words, a grim aurora spilling from it.

  "Reflect within this pause and see your future through."

  The guardian gestures to the Wellspring, making it clear what Edith should do.

  Edith looks to the Wellspring, the shades of autumn now spilling forth, and wonders what she should do.

  Curiosity won and she steps forward to the Wellspring, careful to avoid the overflowing watercolors.

  She looks at the reflection within and sees a hazy tree in the midst of autumn. The tree is then set on fire, it's leaves crackling and turning to ashes. It burns until only a hollow trunk is left and at last, the first fall of snow amidst the burned tree that slowly turns to ash.

  "Do you truly understand?" The guardian asks, patient.

  She clenches her fist at the ominous vision, still determined to commence her plan despite everything.

  In spite of everything, she has to see this through.

  The rain pours heavier, just shy of a storm.

  "You've made your choice. I just hope you remember that the stage does nothing but sets itself, the limelight only reveals, maestro."

  "I will." Edith said, more resolute than ever.

  "There can be no going back from this." The speaker holding the umbrella stated, heard despite the heavy downpour of rain. "Go forth and face your future."

  "I don't care." The chosen turns away from the quiet in between and goes once more into the spotlight.

  The guardian holding the umbrella hums as the Wellspring continues to overflow with magic shades of red, orange and yellow as events become sealed in a play of ashes.

  Burning The Bridge

  Disrupting newly built experimental equipment is something very very easy to do. However, disrupting newly built equipment with no casualties whatsoever is something very very difficult.

  The Sacred Flame to strengthen the ritual, a focus sigil to make your intentions clear, essence of raging embers to serve as malice, negate crystals to drain the energy output and of course, silver owls for protection, both inside the circle and to those who'll be affected.

  The created circle must be as every bit complex as the machine, every carefully etched ward to be countered by carefully selected sigil.

  And of course, there were the needed sigils to actually help commence it's purpose.

  She has to succeed at this, by her own power.

  Meanwhile at the Ruby Tower, all the researchers all clustered together, running check-ups and carefully powering up the machine.

  As they powered up their own power source, Prudence's Mirror, the negate crystals powered up in return and with the assistance of the counter circles started rendering the energy unusable in any way.

  The Ruby Tower was quiet at first, as the energy output suddenly drained and the machine started to power down.

  But through quick murmurs and shouts they activated the backup, electricity and taken blood.

  Drinking all those energy potions make her want to vomit but she keeps it in and Edith breathes and allows her ichor to flow onto the sigils.

  A sigil with the image of a shield colored silver shimmers to carefully isolate the machine from everyone, a great barrier standing.

  The researchers immediately start scanning the barrier, yelling out orders at how to potentially destroy it without damaging the machine.

  But they would not have the chance to do anything as an activation sigil with the focus of a potion of caustic decay glows to age the machinery within and let them rot.

  Then colored smoke started to rise from it, as the machine's components break down.

  A sigil with the image of a flame within colored yellow flares to simply destroy what else remains.

  And just then, an isolated explosion fully destroys Project Prometheus.

  The clock reaches midnight, the clock's ring an echoing sound as both sides have stopped.

  And at last, the screams started.

  Those were expected, anyone would scream after so much work and money went down the drain.

  But the screams were of a different agony than she expected.

  It was sudden and quick, not the long lasting wail as all their grand magnum opus dies, sabotaged before it could truly come to life.

  Quickly, she focused and allowed herself to enter the Ruby Tower once more.