#WE THRIVE AND DO RITUAL CIRCLES HERE

[dailykugisaki]

Day 271 | id in alt

Maki heard Kugisaki bar for bar and said "bet."

Good for her. (left to right.)

[melancholymirth]

@astarablaze // you know what we talked about...

Perhaps there was want in him: want greater than need, yearning greater than logical thought; his sense of self-preservation, pale beneath years of seclusion, smothering his heart, snuffing out all hope for change. As such, it was not hope that had him cast this circle of salt and sit well within it, but a desperation felt even in the marrow of his bones. He feared not the consequence of a rite gone wrong or his mind long gone, and so he threw almost all caution to the four winds in his sad pursuit of a simple human right. But the candles were lit, the oils applied, his athame to his right to carve a sealing sigil—or stab whatever ne'er-do-well that may have thought to come through after hearing his entreaty. Indeed, the room was blustering intangibly—no gusts nor sounds to speak of—with magic that was hot and violet at his fingertips.

There was want in him, roaring louder than any demon that had protestations for being summoned hither. To be a warlock who dabbled in the diabolical was a lifestyle fraught with peril and promised eternal damnation, but V supposed that to be damned in the hereafter would never compare to the damnation he served against himself in life. And maybe it had been too late, too little, too late, to try to escape this monotony, this prison he'd built slowly over the years. It was his heart more so than his body that was caged, and he wished it free: to fly and to sing like a bird in flight, and to bleed from the cherub's arrow.

Rather an infantile thought, but he could not blame the poets who molded his heart after theirs. Besides, it is against human nature to keep from one's own kind. Man seeks the company of his neighbor, thrives in it and benefits the other in so doing. For V, however, that may not ever be. Man was as wicked as he was nurturing, and often did this little black sheep feel the lash of abandonment, the fangs of villainy. Thus, he turned to the darkness and the devils therein, and sometimes there were ghosts in the fog he chose to entertain. Be that as it may, his apartment was good enough for tonight. On his tongue was a wish that was simple, uttered into the darkness surrounding from a hollow hunger, not the hope, for fulfillment. He wished simply for companionship, protection, love—basic human wants that were denied him for one reason or another.

It came down to the strength of will and the sorcery that sent it through the cosmos. And when he least expected a response, he felt it forming through a tear in the fabric before him. Strong and alive, hotter than the air round his fingers, but oppressive in a manner that alarmed the warlock into prying open his eyes. He did not count on an answer tonight, nor had he prepared himself to see a full, material form spill from the spatial tear onto his living room floor. It took his breath and snapped his concentration, but it seemed that he'd done all he had to. The magic began breaking up, the air around him cooled, and before his staring eyes was a thing disoriented, much after man in shape and visage, but growling, and...

His heart was drumming; he knew he'd done wrong, he remembered where his athame rested. He'd cast no summoning circle for a demon, and yet one had come! Had he really been at fault here, then, or had forces beyond his reckoning brought this upon him by their own designs? In any case, it fell to none other than V to deal with the door he'd opened, and to deal swiftly. He rose from the floor, ritual blade in his right hand while his left was a fist, and frowned at the uninvited. "Demon. I called not upon thee." Truly, the hardness of his voice belied the apprehension swirling within his bosom. He knew little, if nothing, of that with which he engaged. But he had defenses, if the need should arise for them, and the salt on the floor encircling him had to have been good for something.

[sonicasura]

Land Of The Rising Sun

Jet knew he was stating the obvious by saying this but....

Rockin' Rockbombs is the Circle Of Temper harsh!!!

Jet really just had to say it because between the heat, magma columms rising up, the heat, rocks that like to fly off the mountain, the heat, the lack of flora which meant very little grass and trees.

Did Jet mention the heat?

Jet now understood why Monsters called the denizens of this Circle, those tempered by temper, because only Monsters that lived here had grown accustomed to the sweltering heat, the rough lands, and overall harsh nature that this Circle was known for.

Though now the Monsters that lived in the Circle Of Temper were now forced to move, all because of that Bastard Aamon. When the resources for the Circles were taken away and the Circle Of Temper Lower Echelon mining mandate was put into action. It crippled the denizens and made living here all the more tougher. The denizens couldn't thrive under these conditions and soon so much work had gone to waste.

This eventually led to Dragglenook future being made into one of uncertainty.

Jet: BAWK, Enough of these downer thoughts, I got a mission and it's to find The Big Boss Man himself.

Jet along with the rest of the Ace Aviators were told the covert mission they were to accomplish, to find Psaro or any leads on his location. A special job for the Aviators given to only the Aviators, because of there mobility and speed being the best of Diabolic Halls Forces.

Another 2 hours passed before Jet took a break at Dragglenook. Though when Jet got there he saw everyone gathered in the Town square. Curious to see what was going Jet walked up too the Mayor Of Dragglenook to get the details.

Jet: CAW, excuse me, Mayor Gnorbert what's everyone gathered here for?

Gnorbert: Hmm, a Hawk Man? Oh Jet! Sorry there lad minds been a all over the place lately.

Jet: It's fine Gnorbert, CAW! Didn't mean to throw you for a loop. I'm just curious as to what all the Hub-Bub is about?

Gnorbert: Well you see...

One conversation later

Jet: Wow there Gnorbert, planin' on traveling to whole new place with the Village! CAW! Quite the game plan you got there.

Gnorbert: Yup, it was tough decision too leave our home, but we just can't get back to our previous glory. Don't get me wrong lad, we all appreaciate what the Generals are doing, but the Circle Of Temper just can't seem to recover, we all came to the conculsion that a fresh start is best.

Jet: CAW, Ya I understand, no one will fault you or the townspeople for moving away from Temper. It will be sad for Dragglenook to not be here anymore, but keep in mind no matter where you go. The Generals of Diabolic Hall will be there to help and protect you.

Gnorbert: Thanks lad, actually were about to start you want to stay and see the new lands.

Jet was about to say no, when something hit him.

Could this new land they were travelin' too have any hints for there Master Psaro's location? The small chance that it did, was too big to just pass up, so he agreed to the offer. Jet watched the ritual take place, Gnorbert put the Charcoal Travelite, that Dr. Helix Helix kindly made for them, in the center of the Village. Enacting the power of the Travelite, the Village began to shake a bit for a couple minutes, before finally stopping. The denizens all stood there confused for awhile before someone spoke up.

Bomboulder: Did it work? Are we at our new home?

Hammerhood: We should go look outside and see, come on guys!

Everyone rushed to the entrance, too see there knew home. The sight that greeted them was lush forest in a mountainess area.

Heedee Voodoo: It worked!!! IT REALLY WORKED!!!

Choppy Hopper: This place looks fantastic!!! C'mon everyone, let's go explore the new wilds!!!

Everyone dashed off to explore the area that they would be living in.

Jet: Well this seems like a nice new home. While I would like to explore, I have a mission.

Jet took off to the skies to start exploring the area for any clues that could give them a hint to there Master wereabouts

It definitely take a bit for New Dragglenook to be fully established but the area they ended up is good for many reasons. One is that Psaro made a barrier of sorts around the whole area to keep any dangerous kaiju away. The only ones the monsters are most likely to find are the smaller harmless variety. (It took a while for them to realize this was Psaro's magic.)

Second reason is the various resources nearby from vegetation to even a large lake so stockpiling on food will be quite easy. (Crops do take a bit of time to grow after all.) Finally it's a good distance away from human civilization. Kafka's house is the only thing nearby as he wanted to make sure Psaro didn't have to worry about people spotting him if he decides to play in monster form.

Galdandy's Squadron will not only map the area but also bring back interesting schematics, information or stuff they find in this new world that could help improve the living qualities. A big cultural boon is about to unfold for sure. Quite the important one too as it will help keep the Lower Echelons afloat until their key issues can be solved.

[bristolianbackpacker]

Day 18 - Sacred Valley

We have breakfast at 7am so that we are ready for Lito to pick us up at 8am. I found Lito as a recommendation on a Facebook group. As soon as he picks us up I know that he is going to be a good guide - his English is really good. We’ve arranged to see 5 things and then be dropped off our at accomodation in Ollantaytambo.

Our first stop is Chinchero. It’s another multi purpose Inca site - Lito explains that it would have had housing, agriculture and religious a temple.

The site was probably built in the 1300s (this is before the height of their powers in the 1400s).

Lito explains that religious temples would have used the highest quality stone work. Whilst terraces were built for agricultural purposes.

Each stone is carved by hand and no mortar is used yet they look like they fit together perfectly. It’s so impressive the engineering skills they had back then. The stones can only survive earthquakes and still stand today because they hace a tongue and groove mechanism to lock together. Hematite is a type of stone that has a high iron content. This was likely used as a tool to carve the stones.

Upon questioning further we realise that it would have been slaves that built the structures. As an example Saksaywaman took 10,000 people to build. Somewhere like Chinchero would be about 5,000 people. Even with such large numbers of people towns like Ollantaytambo and Machu Picchu would have taken 30+ years to complete.

Our second stop is an Alpaca farm. First we get to feed the Llamas and Alpacas and see the guinea pigs. The poor things are being sold for food and Lito is asking the owner if he has been selling a lot recently (it’s a specialty for Mother’s Day). Then the owner gives us some information - it has social aims to provide jobs for single mothers who have a pretty tough time in Peru. We learn (with demonstrations) all about the washing, spinning and dying process using traditional techniques. We are both given some bugs from a cactus plant and told to squash them in our hands - we both nearly scream when a bright red liquid covers our hands. From there, things are added e.g. salt that can change the colour of further. We each buy a jumper as a souvenir.

Our next stop is Moray where there are perfectly circular terraces exist. Historians initially thought it was an amphitheater as Incans used circles for their rituals. However it turns out that it was used for farming and specifically experimental farming. Each terrace is its own microclimate and the temperature at the centre is the warmest. They managed to adapt plants from lower elevations eg there is evidence of cocoa having been planted here. In order to do this they had to bring soil from subtropical areas to be able to grow the cocoa plants as the soil here is not fertile enough.

Only one of the three circular terraces has been stored back in the 1990s. With the other two you can clearly see the stonework is still at the site and will likely be put back at some point in the future.

At this point Lito uses his guide books to show us a few things - firstly the terraces are not just built with stone. Each terrace has layers of soil, sand, gravel and stones for drainage. All of these would have had to have been brought in �� Also we see an image that shows the class hierarchy in the Incan times. In fact…only the royalty were actually referred to as Incans and they had their own language. The rest of the people spoke Quechuan and there is a very clear social hierarchy down to the slaves.

Lito is able to speak Quechuan - the native language. He learnt this from his grandparents. It’s good to hear that the language is still alive and thriving outside of Cusco. We’ve also noticed that the Peruvian culture is well and truely alive e.g. traditional clothing is not just for tourists - it’s something that they all seem to still wear and is really nice to see.

As we leave via Moray town Lito stops and we buy some chicha from a vendor through the car window (ordered in Quechuan). It’s a fermented corn drink that has a low alcohol content. We get the one with strawberry. Lito says that this is drank in place of water in Moray and Jack asks “I assume the kids don’t drink this though?” But oh no, the kids drink it too 😂

Our next stop is the Maras Salt mines. The mines are collectively owned by the town and every resident is entitled to their own ponds but they have to maintain them themselves. Newer residents of the town will need to built their ponds at the very bottom of the hill.

The salt is formed because the spring is naturally salty it’s very unusual but they think that the mountain is full of salt and the water dissolves it as it comes out. The water is directed via channels that go to leach of the pools. The water fill the pools and within 5 days it has evaporated. They repeat the process 5-6 times to get about 10ish centimetres of depth. The layers have different properties - the lower ones are brown salt with minerals, the middle ones are pink salt and the top is white salt. It is believed that the Incas used this site to harvest salt, however in recent times it wasn’t until the 1970s that the ponds were created and it has been expanding from there ever since.

We stop for lunch at a buffet restaurant which is needed by this point!! Jack tries guinea pig but I can’t do it after seeing them at the Alpaca farm earlier today.

Our last stop is the Ollantaytambo Incan site. We drive through the cobblestone streets of the town and in the main square.

This area was strategically important as it was the intersection of three valleys (each of which was an inca trail). It was a place where people from the four different states could meet via the different trails and trade food.

Ollantaytambo is one of the latest sites to be built and is thought to still have been in progress when the Spanish invaded. The site is again multi purpose - you can see terraces for agriculture, there is a site that is used as a calendar - the sun will rise either side of the mountain in summer vs winter and in the middle of the mountain during spring/autumn. At the top is a temple - Lito explains that this is the piece that was still in progress. The stonework here is the most impressive of all - the pieces are absolutely huge. Also they had by this point innovated their techniques with the “tongue and groove” to improve it:

Whilst the Incas didn’t have a written language on the temple you can see vague carvings of the Inca cross - this represents life stages going up (prime of your life), going down (as you get older), death and the afterlife (further down), and back up to rebirth. When the Spanish arrived they tried to remove as many symbols as possible in order to establish Catholicism as the only religion.

Wow it was a big day of sightseeing so Lito drops us off at our hotel in Ollantaytambo. We say our farewells and check in. The B&B is a bit basic but it’s big selling point is that it has a terrace on the roof that overlooks the town and the Inca site, however it’s too cold to spend more than a few minutes up there.

[just-another-wren]

!!THIS IS AN AU! I WENT ON A RAMBLE

"A-are you sure this is safe?!" Timothy clung to Donnie tight, but he didn't seem to mind, and if he did he didn't show it. Leo raised an eyebrow ridge at him with a smirk, to which he rolled his eyes.

"Affirmative, Kadeen here has survived and thrived through every single test she's let me perform on them- including the ones the others had to be convinced on..." Leo looked away guiltily, glancing at the aforementioned human-turned-literal-god who was currently shielding them from another unknown blast. Such a beautiful, ethereal being... "When we die, it'll be of old age- and she'll be the one to blame." Wait, why are they sha-?

"Yeah!" Raph piped up from the back of the group. "You're safe here!" Her expression went warmer, ruffling the new human's hair. "Raph can promise 'ya that."

...but as another blast rattled- rattled?!- the magical chamber, his smile faltered for a moment.

Something felt wrong.

...You feel that, don't you bluejay?...

No- nonono, fuck, something was wrong.

"They're right about that," he said, voice cracking badly, mask teleporting off her head- only a foot or two away from their face, falling to the ground. He shot them a smile, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. "I won't let you all die." The wings serving as ears covered their eyes, but bloody tears dripped past them. "But I'm afraid I can't change this fate."

.

..

...

The shield started cracking.

He dropped her smile almost immediately.

"I don't have time for semantics," a look of confusion and slight fear was plastered onto everyone's faces, but Leo couldn't see them. His own smirk had been replaced with a look of sheer horror for the <<Avi>> in front of them. "Leo, I gave you time to choose yourself, but not even I have that anymore!" They shot out a hand to him, other hand, all wings, and chest seemingly starting to flake away. The shield strengthened fully. "I can't finish this. You're getting my powers- take my hand!" he hissed.

"NOW!"

He listened- what else could he do?

Everyone was depending on the both of them, weren't they?!

"<<I call, to nothing and to all! The elements, the unknown, all of time! Let this soul be broken from ritual, let him Ṣ̴͆͝U̵̳͚͓̾̓R̴̨̞̩͐͗̀Ṿ̴̈͋́I̷̲̦͂V̷̜̠͖̂E̸̞̠͑̉͝>>!!!!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

.

..

...Everything she had had been poured into that chant.

But this wasn't the time to reconsider things- Leo had a villain to defeat.

He scooped his family up with lightning speed, teleporting to the nearest roof. He noticed all the marbling colors for a moment, the many wings and thorns littering his body- he had no time for comprehending his new form!

"<<I know this is weird, but trust me!>>" Damnit, I can't even contr- not the time, brain! We're gonna have to go fantasy god's language for now. "<<Raph, I need you and everyone else to distract while I take out the source!>>"

They stared at him for a moment, eyes flashing with even more concern and confusion than ever.

Leo’s a God?! Yes.

Is he okay?! Best I can be here.

How long h- Not enough!

Raph’s eyes went wide. But he nodded. That's all the conformation Leo needed.

He could barely hear him barking directions as he flew in a flash around the demonic, red-dressed woman who was grinning maniacally while turning the buildings into- Nothing. That's all the multiverse will be if I don't get rid of her somehow.

I̵ ̸k̵n̸o̷w̶ ̵y̷o̸u̷ ̷c̵a̸n̶ ̷p̸l̸a̷y̵ ̷y̶o̸u̶r̶ ̴c̶a̵r̴d̵s̸ ̴r̶i̷g̶h̵t̵,̷ ̵L̵e̵o̴

He whipped his head around madly, barely dodging a blast from the madwoman below. He holds up a forcefield- wouldn't be able to shield him, but at least she couldn't see or hear him well anymore- and flying away behind an untouched building.

"<<Kadeen?!>>"

W̷h̵a̶t̴,̵ ̸d̵i̸d̴n̴'̵t̸ ̵t̷h̶i̵n̶k̵ ̴I̷ ̵w̵o̷u̶l̸d̸ ̸d̸o̷ ̶a̷s̶ ̶m̷u̶c̶h̵ ̶a̴s̶ ̵I̴ ̵c̷o̴u̶l̶d̶ ̷t̶o̶ ̴h̸e̴l̶p̷ ̴u̶n̸t̵i̷l̶ ̴t̶h̶e̶ ̵e̵n̶d̶

̷H̸a̶r̶d̴ ̴l̶e̵f̴t̴

He circled up the building, dodging another blast that had gone through the building. From his position he could clearly see his family running around Her, she had started randomly blasting in every direction in a manic frenzy.

M̴i̶k̵e̷y̴

His hand moved involuntarily, and a few moments later he saw his orange brother pop up in the other corner of his vision. He waved up to where he assumed Leo was, and he couldn't help but smile at the attempt at a thank-you.

S̶h̵e̸ ̶c̸a̵n̵'̸t̶ ̴b̸e̵ ̴k̷i̸l̴l̷e̷d̶,̷

Another involuntary hand(?) jerk, and Raph’s enlarged form was given large, strong, playing card stepping-stones over the nothingness below her. A smile and nod of thanks, and the unknown character screamed in anger.

̵b̶u̷t̷ ̶s̸h̴e̴ ̷c̶a̵n̷ ̴b̷e̶ ̴t̶r̷a̶p̵p̵e̵d̵

̸W̶e̶ ̴c̵a̵n̸'̸t̶ ̷k̵e̴e̴p̶ ̸h̴e̸r̸ ̷l̴o̵n̴g̴,̶ ̴b̸u̵t̴ ̶i̶t̸'̸s̴ ̶l̴o̵n̶g̴ ̶e̸n̵o̵u̶g̴h̷ ̴f̵o̵r̵ ̶h̸e̴r̷ ̶t̷o̵ ̴b̵e̷ ̵r̶e̶d̸i̵r̵e̵c̴t̵e̴d̷ ̵t̵o̶ ̸t̶h̵e̸ ̶t̷r̵u̸e̵ ̶t̶i̷m̵e̶l̶i̷n̶e̴ ̶a̷n̶d̴ ̷t̶r̷a̸p̶p̷e̸d̶ ̵f̷o̸r̴ ̶r̸e̷a̶l̸

"<<Alright! What's the plan, then, chief?>>" he asked Ævį- nobody in particular.

I̷'̵l̵l̶ ̵t̴a̸k̸e̶ ̷c̵a̷r̶e̷ ̵o̸f̸ ̴t̸h̷a̵t̵,̶ ̷I̴ ̶k̸n̸o̸w̶ ̶t̸h̵e̵ ̷i̸n̵t̶e̵n̶t̷ ̴b̶e̷h̸i̸n̵d̶ ̵t̸h̶e̶ ̸s̷p̶e̵l̸l̵

A few moments later, the woman went up in flames(not unlike those Kadeen used on those deserving karma).

̴Y̶o̶u̷ ̶g̶e̸t̸ ̴y̵o̴u̷r̴ ̸f̸a̷m̷i̶l̵y̴ ̶i̶n̷ ̶t̸h̶e̴ ̷r̷i̷g̵h̶t̶ ̸p̶l̴a̶c̷e̶s̷ ̵f̶o̵r̸ ̶t̷h̶e̷m̴ ̶t̷o̵ ̴k̴e̵e̷p̷ ̴t̸h̷e̵ ̶a̴t̴t̸e̶n̵t̶i̴o̴n̵-̵ ̶a̴n̷d̵ ̶l̶a̸s̴e̵r̵-̶ ̷o̸f̴f̶ ̴u̵s̷

"<<Aye aye, captain!>>" he, once again, said to himself. He flew around the battlefield like a vulture, portaling the Caseys away from falling to void, letting Donnie and Mikey know in advance to fly higher, creating stepping-stones of anything and everything to support Raph and April, and making sure Timothy, Usagi, Draxum, and the other civilians were able to portal to Irinel as the mysterious fire raged on.

Soon, the woman stopped moving, as if frozen in time.

I̷t̶'̷s̴ ̶f̷i̶n̷a̴l̵i̵z̶e̷d̵ ̵

̵G̷e̸t̵ ̸e̶v̸e̵r̸y̵o̴n̸e̴ ̷t̴o̷ ̶o̵u̴r̷ ̶I̶r̴i̵n̶e̵l̶ ̵n̷o̷w̶,̴ ̶t̴h̷i̸s̵ ̵u̵n̴i̷v̶e̴r̸s̷e̴ ̵i̶s̸ ̸b̶r̵e̷a̷k̷i̴n̵g̶ ̸a̶p̴a̷r̵t̴ ̷a̸s̷ ̷I̶ ̸s̷p̷e̴a̷k̷

The woman randomly disappeared, and everything affected by her attacks started cracking into nothing.

̷I̶'̵m̷ ̴h̵o̵l̷d̷i̶n̷g̵ ̴i̴t̶ ̴t̴o̵g̴e̸t̴h̶e̷r̵ ̷a̷s̷ ̶l̶o̴n̸g̶ ̵a̶s̵ ̷I̵ ̴c̷a̸n̵

̸G̶e̵t̶

̷E̴v̷e̵r̸y̷o̸n̴e̷

"<<Don't have to tell me twice!!>>" He flew around the entire state in a near instant, taking every presence he could sense and balling them up into their own shields.

̶N̷e̵w̶ ̴J̴e̷r̵s̴e̸y̸ ̴i̴n̶c̶l̶u̵d̸e̸d̵

"<<Awh fuck...>>" He made another round, collecting those in- New Jersey? That's... out of character.

He collected them together, and opened a huge portal- to the place we all know and love, Irinel. Surely, every bubble went through. "<<Seriously, how does that work?>>"

C̸a̶r̸t̶o̴o̵n̴ ̸p̴h̸y̷s̷i̵c̵s̸,̸ ̸I̷ ̸d̷o̷n̴'̵t̴ ̴k̴n̶o̵w̶ ̷

"<<Wh- but you're-?>>" What?

S̸h̶u̷t̶ ̷u̶p̴ ̶a̶n̴d̴ ̸g̸e̸t̵ ̵o̵u̶t̷ ̸o̵f̶ ̷t̴h̶e̴r̴e̶,̷ ̴d̵u̶m̵b̷a̸s̶s̵

"<<Right, right!>>" Seriously, who is he talking to, am I right? He opens a portal big enough for his true form, quickly flying through.

He smiles, wide, seeing his family on the other side.

They call to him, but he can't hear them

as everything

fades

to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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~̵~̴~̵~̴~̵~̶~̴~̷~̴~̸~̷~̵~̴~̶~̷

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.//[this part's a bit hard to read too, fair warning]

..

...(he wakes up in the void.) Wh... where?... Fuck, my everything hurts...

(Cough, cough cough!...then there's sobbing, mixed with the coughing fit. they’re hastily sitting down on his hands and knees nearby, elbow up to her face as they hack out blood.)

Shit- Kadeen!! (he runs over to him, quickly kneeling beside her and rubbing circles into their back instictively.) Kadeen?! Kadeen, are you okay?

(he stops coughing, wiping away the blood with her sleeve and smiling.) No. But when have I ever been, before the first bubblegum bitches' attack? (they gasp, falling onto Leo.)

(he yelps, catching him and adjusting her so their head is resting on his chest.) You're safe, I'm- (he finally sees the rest of him, and a look of fear glosses over his eyes.)

(her legs are gradually starting to fade away.)

M-mi amor, this- this is temporary, right? (their eyes fill with tears, and his smile breaks momentarily.) You're- You're coming back. You're coming back from this, right?

I- (tears overflow from her eyes, and they grab onto him tightly, smile no longer present.) No, no I'm not- and you shouldn't have what was supposed to be my fate! (he sobs into his shoulder, and his arms come to wrap around her comfortingly and protectively.)

Love, you didn't have a choice-

But, I- I could've!- (they both yelp as their hips fade away, shifting the weight. he still holds him tight as he can.) N-no! This- (she takes a breath, then lets go of him after a long moment, just long enough to grab his face and turn it towards theirs. he's smiling again.)

You did amazing, Leo. I mean it. (tears filled his eyes.) I love you, take care of everyone for me, and, I... I certainly hope you know the risks you're taking by becoming this- God, I mean you are... stuck with it now, heh.

(a majority of her has faded away by now.)

N-no, nonononono- don't- don't leave, please!!

(they just smiled at him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.)

I'm sorry, Leo...

I'm so sorry, for ev̴e̵r̷̪̆y̷̛͙t̴͖̒h̵̭͉̃̍ȉ̸̠͝n̵̲̽͜͝g̶̜̼̒̓.̶̣̪̀̌.̵̡̦̫̼̱̪̗̊̉͒͂͆͂́ͅ.̶̢̹̖̦̩͚͇͗͜

...

..

.

..

...

..

.

..

...

....

.....

......

.....

.....

...

..

.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[princess-of-the-corner]

ATLA FMA AU:

Ozai would probably just be the Xing emperor because I cannot see that man possessing/cloning (I don't actually know what Father does to Hohenheim because I still haven't watched it so all my knowledge is from osmosis) Hakoda

Honestly while Father is much better at being a villain, there are similarities between him and Ozai. Being a shitty parent? Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss? Using his power over others, whether it be his own children or the military of the country under his command, instead of doing things himself?

The only difference is that Father can put his money where his mouth is when he actually does do something himself.

OKAY THAT SAID

Since you're here for the Osmosis, here's what the history and relationship between Hohenheim and Father is:

We go back 400-odd years ago to Xerexes, a thriving kingdom in the desert. In it's capital city is a boy.

Well, not exactly. Slaves are not considered 'people', not even given a name just a number. Number 23. 23 is owned by the King's Alchemist.

One day, the Alchemist takes a bit of blood from 23 for an experiment. He makes a Homunculus. Not a proper Person like we see with the Sins Crew, but a shadowy creature that only has enough life force to survive in a flask.

The thing in the flask feels indebted to 23 for the blood that gave it life, and decides to help and return the favor. He gives the slave a name and offers to teach it everything it knows. 23, now Van Hohenheim, agrees to this deal.

He learns to read and write, even begins to learn Alchemy. When his owner catches him teaching the other slaves, he realizes the boy has a talent for Alchemy. He frees him from slavery and takes him on as an apprentice.

The Homunculus is brought before the King of Xerexes, seeking Immortality. He tells the king of the rituals to achieve such a thing, plotting away in his flask.

It takes a while for the ritual to become complete. A large circle dug around the kingdom, and a massacre on five different points on the circle. But surely Immortality is worth the sacrifice?

The final ritual was to happen in the King's chamber, with the Alchemist, his Apprentice, and the Homunculus all present. However, he had been tricked. The center of the circle was not at the King's throne like he had been told. But over just where the Homunculus, with Hohenheim holding its flask, is standing.

In an instant, the kingdom is gone. Though structures are left intact, everyone has dropped dead.

All except for two.

Hohenheim still stands. And the Homunculus, using the template in the blood given all those years ago, crafts himself a body to escape his flask.

Neither are quite what they were anymore. A Philosopher's Stone in Human Form, containing roughly half a million souls each from the people sacrificed. The Homunculus feels that he has repaid the debt to his friend, to the man he sees as a brother. Hohenheim is horrified, betrayed, and guilty over what the thing that shares his blood has done.

[theotherrookie]

Here’s some basic information about the Brotherhood (may be subject to changes in the future).

History

The occult isn’t all centuries old dusty tomes, or a weird yet very Victorian fascination in response to the rise of science. Sometimes it’s all about money and the ambitions of one rich bastard.

The Brotherhood was created some time in the 70s as yet another pretentious circle of occult enthusiasts looking to brag about the old artifacts they enjoyed collecting and to get freaky every once in a while. Being doomed to derail from the start, it remained as nothing more than a fancy club where occasionally a supposedly haunted piece of jewelry would get shown off until one of the founders decided to take matters into his own hands. That man being, of course, Lucien’s father. Many of the founders met an unfortunate end when one of the many mock rituals unfortunately worked a little too well. All but one died and that man acquired a not so subtle ability to bend luck in his favor.

With more wealth and power than a deranged individual should be allowed, Lucien’s father used his charisma and financial resources to gather followers. They would steal artifacts and carry on with the Brotherhood’s more official activities and he would share the secrets of the old arts with them, while also taking most of the Brotherhood’s profits for himself.

The Brotherhood ends up on the Order’s radar at the end of the 80s after a botched attempt to give the higher ranks some form of immortality literally caused the dead to rise from their graves in the area. This prompted Rook’s mother and her group to return to their active duties as Carriers to hunt down the idiots who caused that mess. What followed was a long streak of humiliations for Lucien’s father at the hands of a fire mage who openly admitted on several occasions to not even be that good at fighting.

Tired of this treatment and with the years starting to take their toll, Lucien’s father decided to leave the honor of ridding him of his enemies to his not yet born half fey child. He would just have to hang in there for a few years, be a little more careful with the way the Brotherhood pursued its activities and soon he would finally prevail and use the fire mage’s blood to finally become immortal.

Unfortunately, his ambitions were cut short by a stroke and Rook’s mother died not long after. The Brotherhood survived, of course, and thrived in secret, waiting for the return of Lucien from the fae’s realm to take on the role of leader to continue his father’s work.

This took a few years more than expected. The fae decided to be a bit more thorough with Lucien’s training, giving Rook time to complete her own. They could murder each other for all they cared, but they would do so on an even field. But as we know, neither behaved as expected.

Organization

The one true leader is Lucien’s father with Lucien, by virtue of his descendance, being his natural successor.

Next down the hierarchy is the elite. It’s a handful of people who were entrusted with actually useful occult knowledge and are in charge of funding and managing the Brotherhood’s activities. There’s usually one assigned for each city they’re infesting. They control all the lower ranks and essentially do all the work since Lucien wants nothing to do with the organization. They still trust he will grace them with his guide some day. Lucien tries to keep his involvement vague in order to pass useful information down to Rook whenever he can.

The Brotherhood doesn’t know the actual whereabouts of the soul of their late leader. He never deemed it necessary to inform them he was a ghost and now he never will.

The moment the fae were dragged in the Brotherhood’s business, it was established that no one should be using their real names anymore. While Lucien’s father had his name entirely erased through occult means (as precaution in case Lucien got a little too ambitious), everyone else is assigned a new alias upon joining. The elites’ names tend to be fancier than those of the lower ranks.

Each branch of the organization has been made to operate more or less individually with minimal communication between groups, unless it’s required to obtain whatever they’re after. Rituals and whatnot are performed without limitations of personnel or resources and often involve multiple groups at once.

Among their ‘official’ activities are antique trading and financial speculation.

Magic casting

Every new acolyte is provided with an amulet, a silver coin with some convoluted symbol often worn as a necklace or bracelet for quick use in times of need. Little is known about the origins of the symbol. It’s something Lucien’s father dug up, thus it’s safe to assume it taps into more than questionable forces. According to some accounts, staring at it for too long can cause confusion as well as memory loss and some claim to have caught a glimpse of an eye staring back at them in the reflection.

Prolonged use causes the wearer to refuse to ever take off their amulet, even for an instant and seem to physically consume their bodies after extended use.

Whatever the Brotherhood gets their hands on will be used against foes and for profit. The actual knowledge of most members is however limited, thus any magical schemes tend to misfire and cause extensive damages while achieving nothing remotely close to the desired outcome. Whether they blow themselves up first or not, caution is advised when up against them.

Carriers are to be killed on sight, unless they’ve been captured. In that case, they can be used as components for rituals just like any other supernatural creature. So far, this has always backfired horribly. Their belongings should however be stolen whenever possible as they’re both high quality enchanted items and incredibly valuable.

The grunts usually only have regular guns on them but higher ranks may attempt a spell or two. Magic can and should be abused extensively to achieve their goals. Buildings can be replaced, a dead enemy won’t come back (hopefully).

[rayveewrites]

Oh, Twelve. You have no idea. Truly Bedrock lore is a very long, very complicated ride.

I'll preface this by saying that I haven't watched all perspectives (mostly just Zloy and Lyarrah), and I haven't watched a ton of seasons 0 & 1. That said, I feel I have a pretty decent idea as to the lore of this damn SMP, or at least a better one than a lott of people.

We start in Season 0, where a collection of players load into a Bedrock world that might be normal if a) it wasn't a handful of islands in the middle of the ocean, b) the players weren't all completely insane, and c) the moon was in one piece. The moon is not in one piece. The moon will not be in one piece for many seasons.

Like I said, I haven't watched much of Season 0, so I may have missed out on some plot (I think there was time travel involved?), but by the end of the season, they've built a small but thriving community on the ocean and islands, and have decided to sail to greener pastures, because they wanted to experience the wonders of the 1.14 update or something.

As the group sails gracefully away on their boats and giant turtles and whatnot, a piece of the moon falls to the land below, destroying the fleet and conveniently resetting all progress.

Welcome to Season 1! Don't get too attached.

Season 1's world is actually JaseyBee's own personal singleplayer world, in which the Truly Bedrock crrew just kinda showed up. Jasey's opinion on this is blatantly ignored.

[EDIT: I made a mistake, this isn't Jasey's world. It was actually JessiieB's, who is a completely different person. My only defence is that I was going off spoken words for this and their names are absurdly similar.]

The Season 1 has two main problems: One, the moon is still very not much in one piece, and pieces of the moon are still travelling toward the server, and two, Illager patrols have a habit of spawning and spawning and spawning and spawning and- you get the idea.

The TBers mostly ignore the moon in the hopes it'll go away, and they complain loudly about the constant Pillagers but don't really do anything about it, and they coninue to build stuff and cause each other problems because that's the kind of group this is.

By the end of the season, enough of the TBers have decided that maybe they should do something about the moon thing to drag the more reluctant players along with them as they hunt down a woodland mansion in the hope that killing off enough Illagers will make the moon behave itself.

The mansion they find is weird, in that it is actually several mansions stacked on top of each other at odd angles, and also there is a hidden room inside wih a circle of small, strange creatures doing some sort of ritual.

There are two trains of thought, here: Either the mysterious beings are performing a ritual to bring the moon down on them, and they should kill them; or they're performing a ritual to stop the moon from destroying everything (again), and therefore should not be killed.

Lyarrah and Jasey [Jessiie] are the only ones who subscribe to the latter. Consequently, they are also the closest thing the server has to any impulse control. Truly Bedrock does not have much in the way of impulse control.

Murders are commited, moon chunks start to fall, everyone takes shelter in the nether to ride it out, and the server resets.

Season 2 is upon us! There is notably Less Moon in the sky, but there is still Some Moon left and it's not like minecraft has tides or whatever to be affected by it.

Season 2's main problem (because there's always a main problem) is that placing a beacon down and activating it will result in slowly expanding nether corruption. The obvious answer would be to just burn all the beacons on the server and ban them outright, but that would require acknowledging the problem.

Meanwhile Zloy has a sideplot where he bulds an item sorter/accounting system/AI for his shop. The AI is called Alice. They're sentient. Zloy is their dad.

Meanwhile meanwhile, FoxyNoTail obtains a giant laser. Foxy is not the sort of person who one should allow to have a giant laser. Nobody on Truly Bedrock is the sort of person who one should allow to have a giant laser. At some point, Big Chicken carves SilentWhisperer's face into the literal sun. Who's Big Chicken? Well, he's definitely not Foxy in a chicken skin doing a bad Russian accent. Definitely not.

Meanwhile meanwhile meanwhile, Zloyxp is building a giant, impenetrable vault. He intends to scam Mr Beardstone out of his diamonds. The vault lasts for one week. It does not last two.

Back in the main plot, Jasey is being guided through the Nether by a group of piglins, where she finds a giant, ominous portal frame and decides that she should tell someone about it, marking her as the most proactive member of the server. Unfortunately, she is still kind of stuck in the Nether.

Also, there's a time traveller from a future in which everything was overrun by the beacon corruption. His name is BrunoDanUy, and he tries to tell people before things get too bad. Unfortunately, everyone blatantly ignores his warnings.

Eventally, during a group meeting, GruvvaGuy mentions that there's a great big portal over by his base which he didn't build, Jasey valiantly manages to not strangle Foxy on the spot, and everyone gets over to Gruvva's base in time to witness a Magma Cube the size of a building come through. The group bolts.

Zloy and MrBeardstone team up to build a giant mech constructed out of shops and operated by Alice. Everyone else goes off to upgrade, aim and fire Foxy's giant laser. Alice fights the Cube for a while, the giant laser finishes both of them off, and now the server's been overrun by less giant, far more numerous magma cubes.

Bruno tells everyone that "Whatever you do, don't shoot the moon with the laser", and Foxy and Silent immideately go shoot the moon with the laser (Bruno's trying his best, guys).

The laser is a direct hit, everyone gets their asses into Zloy's vault, and the season ends with the traditional moonfall and enough magma cream items to probably crash the server.

Season 3 time! This world's problem is that, uh... um. Hm. Well, this is new. While Season 3's world does have Nether and End biomes in the Overworld, everything else seems weirdly fine. Including the moon. Especially the moon, actually, because it's in one piece for the first time in Truly Bedrock history.

And aside from some glitches (which go ignored, because this is Minecraft Bedrock Edition and glitches kinda go with the territory), and some huh-Alice-is-acting-weird, everything's fine and dandy!

...Except it isn't, because Season 3 is actually an insustainable simulation powered by a singular Minecraft shop in order to keep the TBers' brains alive while they heal from being crushed by the moon for the third time, and now Alice can't shut it down without risking their zombie dad due to his weird biology.

Season 3 has the quickest turnaround between revealing the plot and actually doing something about it, probably because Zloy is better at listening to Alice than Beardy is to Bruno or Foxy is to literally anyone.

They get out, the main change is that Zloy is now a Zombie possessing a decapitated zombie head possessing a zombie (as opposed to just being a ghost posessing a zombie, which he was before), and the moon is back to being in pieces, although there really isn't all that much left by this point.

Season 4's main problem is that there is a weird, shady group of not-TBer people hanging around, usually glimpsed whenever a glitch mysteriously rights itself. These range from odd (where did that second dragon egg go?), to mildly annoying (I could have sworn there was a surface spawner around here somewhere), to downright inconvenient (removing a furnace glitch in which a player can get absurd amounts of xp in a version without dual-wielding). They also manage to get the moon in one piece (for the first actual time in the server's history), so you know they're evil.

The shady group is called the World Builder Corp., they build worlds, and it only took them, what, three years to notice that the Truly Bedrock server had some problems. They decided to clean up the server to bring it up to standards, and their roadmap also includes gletches which are buddy-that's-a-person, including Pigglesworth (who is a pig), Zloy (who is an item), and Alice (who should probably not be sentient, but they are, and we love them).

That's right, folks! That hybrid discrimination MCYT fic trope? Someone finally did it in an SMP!

Oh, and the Worldbuilders are shutting down the server, Alice is now an Allay, and Foxy has an RV capable of space travel. Don't worry about it.

They take the only natural course of action, which is to fly to the now-repaired moon, because the Worldbuilders won't think to go there for a while. They find a house on the moon, which apparently belongs to a couple of definitely-not-just-Foxy-with-a-weird-costume-and-bad-accent (it's actually really difficult to figure out if these characters exist in-universe or not; people just go with whichever option is funnier so it changes on a dime). The only one actually in the house, though, is Bruno, who has apparently been hanging out on the moon for a bit.

(OOC: I assume what's happened is that Bruno took a hiatus from TB during S4 and this is just a way for him to be back in S5, but I don't watch Bruno so I could be wrong.)

Before they leave, Foxy decides to plant the ruly Bedrock SMP flag, which causes the apparently shoddily-repaired moon to break apart again. They take off, land in another world, and manage to get through their second season finale without getting directly crushed by a chunk of moon (although it's broken again, so it's only a matter of time).

y’all, I’m watching the newest Truly Bedrock season, but there seems to be a lot of lore? any TB fans wanna catch me up a bit on all that?

[witchesbe-like]

What TF is a spirit attachment

As I understand it, a spirit attachment is a collective of negative energy, or a form of an entity that has attached itself to you for various reasons, usually not good ones. Sometimes (most of the time really) the attachment is from you. You have harbored some negativity in your life that has now manifested into its own energy-form and is currently hanging out dragging you down. Things that can cause this? Maybe a bad break-up, a rough patch at work, or anything that seems to cause extended periods of mental distress. (Think trauma. Also this isn’t your fault sometimes it just happens because life.) Constant self-doubt, anguish, or negativity forms these things into bad energy fields that just hang around our aura making us feel like absolute shit for no reason. They can also cause us to get stuck in loops, attracting into our lives the types of people, things and situations that we have not processed out or healed from yet. 

The second kind, and far rarer are you have a nasty spirit entity clawing around you, and you need to get rid of it ASAP. Where can they come from? Could be somewhere you went that wasn’t really a spiritual ‘safe space’ but could be as simple as an old house or just a random place that had a nasty thing inhabiting it. 

Another more likely cause is that you attracted it to you with your bad vibes. (Sorry!) Sometimes these entities are pretty much just loitering around looking for someone to grab onto. They thrive off of our negativity. That’s why it’s so important to keep your space high-vibing, so you don’t attract any lower entity beings. 

How can you tell

There’s not really a ‘way’ to 100% clearly tell, sometimes you just feel off. Maybe you’ve had a stream of bad luck, sleepless nights of insomnia, nightmares or just generally feeling like shit for no reason. Of course these aren’t always the signs, so before you think you have a spirit attachment make sure to get your physical and mental health checked out first. 

You honestly probably don’t have one...even if you think you do

If you’re freaking out because you feel like you might have a spirit attachment, you probably don’t have one. I’ve only ever come in contact with one or two really HORRIBLE ones and one of those I created myself. More than likely if you are feeling off you just need to do a basic cleanse to get rid of any projecting energy BEFORE it starts manifesting into something larger. 

But in case you do here’s a cleanse 

Cleanses are always a good thing to do regularly no matter what. Especially for any magical practitioner because usually we are more sensitive to picking up energy and things, so it’s not a bad idea to start the habit of performing a monthly cleanse if you don’t already do so.

My FAVORITE way to do a cleanse is in a ritual bath. I realize not everyone takes a bath, so you can definitely do this in the shower or just stick your feet in water if you are pressed for time, space or privacy. 

What you need

One chunk of clear quartz

Incense (any kind)

White candles (My favorite inexpensive way to do this is to line the tub with white tealights)

What to do

Open the window. Even if it’s freezing, crack it open. Otherwise, your bad energy will just be circling the room with you. 

Light the candles. 

Light the incense. 

Lay out your quartz. Add more crystals if you feel it’s necessary. Sometimes I pop in a rose quartz for self-love because you can never have too much of that. 

You can also add herbs in at this point. My favorites are lavender or rose petals, but I HATE picking all that shit out of the tub, so I’ve gotten to the point where I’ll either put the herbs in a cloth bag beforehand or just skip it because it's too much trouble. 

Fill the tub and get in. 

Visualize a white light protecting you and your space and ask to connect to your highest self. 

Next, meditate until your mind is clear. Then visualize a bright white light coming from the center of your chest radiating out to your fingers and toes, removing any blocks, attachments or bad feelings. Imagine anything you don’t want in your energy space leaving out the window alongside the incense smoke. Stay as long as you need to in this space. 

[morganaseren]

Warden Niamh/Warden Bethany AU

So because there seemed to be interest in the idea, I decided to expand on the second prompt on this list of AUs I made for Bethany and my Niamh Cousland.

Since Bethany is a Circle Mage in Niamh’s canon verse, I really wanted to experiment with Bethany in one of her other potential routes We don’t talk about the ones where she died not long after escaping Lothering or down in the Deep Roads. Like, what are you talking about? Lalala~ and see if I could work together a happier ending than what the games canonically gave her.

Like most of the AUs I’ve already written about though, this is just a snippet into the verse, so it’s not as polished as I’d like it to be, and the pacing isn’t on par with my main fic. However, there are still 50+ pages for your reading pleasure! Depending on reader interest, I’ll be more than happy to write more about this or other AUs once OtSttCA is completed.

Disclaimer: Any section written in present tense beneath the Read More contains notes or scenes that I’ve yet to expand upon properly.

CliffNotes version of what goes on:

This whole thing takes place sometime after Bethany becomes a Grey Warden and continues on through the years-long breaks between the Acts of DA2. The epilogue will be set sometime after the Trespasser DLC is completed.

Niamh is the Grey Warden who Morrigan chooses to do the Dark Ritual with, and through the obvious use of magic, Kieran is conceived. Because of this, Niamh’s sister Saoirse escapes her otherwise canonical death and gets to be happily married to Leliana.

Because of their mutual respect for one another, and the fact that Niamh went through the trouble of finding Morrigan through the events of the Witch Hunt DLC (she was worried about her friend and their son), she and Morrigan remain in close contact and co-parent Kieran together. Their relationship is often mistaken as a romantic one though.

Bethany eventually falls in love with Niamh over the years, but because she believes the other woman is in a relationship with Morrigan, she keeps her feelings to herself. As such, this is obviously going to be a slow burn romance much like OtSttCA.

Bethany only confesses (albeit by accident) when Niamh nearly dies during a darkspawn ambush when the two woman accidentally find themselves trapped down in the Deep Roads.

There’s a romantic kiss out in the rain along with a semi-NSFW scene later on, which explains why the Read More is in place beyond the fact that this is already super long despite the fact that it’s unfinished...

They both go off in search of the cure to The Calling not long after the Kirkwall Rebellion, and they both eventually get married sometime after the Trespasser DLC with Divine Victoria (spoilers: it’s Leliana) officiating their wedding.

Interested so far? Click below to read more!

“You’re originally from Ferelden, no?” Stroud asked, drawing Bethany’s attention from where she’d been listlessly staring at the cobblestones as they walked away from Amaranthine’s sea port.

The city itself seemed to be thriving with fishmongers and traders of all kinds rattling off their wares to passersby. Save for the workers carrying about lumber and other building materials, one might not have even believed that Amaranthine had suffered its fair share of woes during the onset of the Fifth Blight or the consequent, mysterious darkspawn attack upon its walls nearly a year later. Still, the denizens of the arling were ever a hearty people. For whatever hardship befell them, they continued to persevere. 

She supposed she couldn’t bring herself to be too surprised by that.

The Storm Coast had spawned some of Thedas’ most fearsome raiders once upon a time, and they had proven the bane of Orlais in the rebellion that had spanned over half an Age. For the empire’s trespass upon their freedom, they had fought back with a ruthlessness that matched the raging waves of the sea that was as much a home to them as the land. In the face of such an unsympathetic enemy, they depended on one another to see themselves and each other through to another day. Such faith eventually earned them the liberation they had long sought against Orlais.

Bethany could still see evidence of such camaraderie in the way the people greeted one another so whole-heartedly, stopping to make conversation or help with the transportation of wares. It was such interaction that she’d miss in all the time she’d been away.

Kirkwall had lacked such sincere enthusiasm.

Still, in the two years since she’d left it, she was finally back home, but Bethany knew it was yet another decision she hadn’t had a say in. She hadn’t agreed to returning to Ferelden any more than she had agreed to becoming a Grey Warden. Her jaw clenched, remembering how her sister had simply handed her over to them even when faced with the proposition that they’d likely never see one another again.

Was it really so easy for you to leave me behind, Sister? she thought bitterly, and perhaps upon sensing her melancholy, Stroud changed the subject.

“I realize it seems a rather abrupt choice in returning you here, but what I seek is far too dangerous for someone so new to our way of life to accompany me with,” he explained. “I’m meeting with the Warden-Commander of the Fereldan branch so that I might share some information in the event that things go awry. Their group is smaller than the ones seen across Thedas, but no one can deny their efficiency.” Stroud spared a small chuckle at that. “A bit like your sister and her crew, I suppose; I thought perhaps you would be more comfortable in such a setting.”

It had been a thoughtful suggestion; Bethany knew that. Still, she couldn’t help but sigh. She had always felt that the individuals whom had made up her little social circle were more Emrys’ friends than they had ever been hers. Her older sister had the type of presence to draw anyone to her with her rakish charm and absolute battle prowess.

…which was the exact opposite of her.

As an apostate, it was far easier to stay out of trouble by being unobtrusive. If she gave the Templars no reason to suspect her, she wouldn’t be taken away from her family and the quiet life she had always known. Yet, for all her trouble—and for all her desperation to abide by the rules of a society that had long hated mages like her—she had found herself alone anyway.

Bethany sighed as she looked down at the blues and silvers of the brigandine and tabard of her outfit that signified her status as a Grey Warden. Even with her staff openly displayed across her back, she supposed she no longer had to fear being turned into the authorities. Save for a few curious glances, no one so much as batted an eye at them.

She wasn’t entirely convinced this new life was better than the one she’d left. She could have dealt with the ever-present uncertainty in Kirkwall and the endless, interpersonal squabbles of their ragtag group than spending the remainder of her years surrounded by strangers and fighting darkspawn.

But the choice wasn’t hers to make.

Very little ever was.

---

“So that’s Velanna. She took over as Archivist for our branch when the Warden-Constable was promoted to her current position by our Commander,” Nathaniel said as he took Bethany and Stroud through a tour of Vigil’s Keep since the fortress’ respective Warden-Commander and Warden-Constable were currently out on business.

Their latest stop was a library filled with seemingly endless rows of bookshelves and even more that lined the walls of the chamber that consisted of three separate levels. It was impressive, and Bethany was half-convinced she could have spent an Age in this room alone and never be able to read the entirety of its collection.

At Nathaniel’s commentary, she spared a cursory glance at the woman writing intently at one of the tables furthest away from them, paying little mind to her audience. As was typical of most elves, Velanna was a slight woman. Her hair was a shade of blonde so pale that it was nearly white, but there was a surliness in her pensive expression that gave Bethany pause. It was something that suggested the other woman didn’t welcome the company of others easily, and she seemed to have been proven right by Nathaniel’s words.

“Don’t mind her if she’s a bit standoffish at first. Velanna’s usually that way with everyone until she starts warming up to them,” he assured.

“Oh?”

“Yes. She didn’t really like humans all that much to begin with—hardly a surprise considering how terrible some of them were toward her former clan. Truthfully, I think the only people she really respects are our commanding officers—the Constable mostly though.” He spared a soft chuckle at that. “Granted, the Warden-Commander could lead a damn army from one side of Thedas to the other, but only her sister has the type of negotiation skills that could somehow end up with a High Dragon allied with a sheep of all things.”

“Probably a good thing,” said Varel—the Keep’s seneschal. There was amusement in his dark eyes as he stroked his beard, which had long grown grey with age. “Actually succeeding in getting the Warden-Constable angry is a terrifying sight to behold.”

“Please don’t remind me; I still have nightmares from our first meeting…” Nathaniel muttered with a shudder.

Bethany found that curious, but before she could begin to question him, she saw how he blinked at further movement inside the library. She followed his gaze to see that a dark-haired, dwarven woman had entered through one of the side entrances, carrying two, steaming mugs. One had been set before Velanna, who whispered something quietly, but both of Bethany’s brows rose when she saw how the elf’s cheeks quickly reddened by the kiss that had been pressed to them by her latest visitor.

“Ah. And that’s Sigrun there—another one of those few, honored individuals who Velanna won’t immediately snap at,” Nathaniel remarked humorously.

The tour then continued elsewhere with the party entering the Mess Hall. While neat and tidy, it would have otherwise been unremarkable were it not for the lone dwarf snoring loudly atop one of the tables—an empty cask by his side. Bethany and Stroud shared bemused glances while Varel only cursed next to them, running a weary hand down his face.

“I told you we needed better locks for the cellar if we’re to keep Oghren away from the wine stores,” Nathaniel deadpanned.

Oghren grumbled nonsensically in his sleep before promptly rolling off the table and right onto the floor, loudly overturning more than a few chairs in the process. Despite the fall, he continued to doze away, and his snoring only seemed to grow in volume. They then watched as the poor seneschal wearily hauled the dwarf back to his quarters before he could cause another incident in front of their guests.

“…well, that was Oghren,” Nathaniel muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a weary sigh. “Quite the interesting fellow, that one. With him, you’ve pretty much met every Warden in the Keep save for—”

He was interrupted by the sound of voices coming down the hallway.

“I told you that I’m more than capable of walking on my own!” protested a feminine voice, irritation evident within it.

“Says the woman who was nearly side-swiped off a cliff by an ogre,” came the deeper timbre of another woman’s amused reply.

Unlike Nathaniel or herself, the latest arrivals didn’t seem to bear the typical, Fereldan accent or even Stroud’s Orlesian one from what she could tell. Bethany could hear how some of the vowels lilted somewhat as they spoke.

“It didn’t really give me any choice in the matter,” was the dry response. “It was either stand before its charge or risk the family in the wagon being swept over the edge instead.”

“I was hardly questioning your bravery, Sister. The people in that caravan certainly wouldn’t, but perhaps leave the more death-defying stunts to those of us with the armor to handle it, hm? I shudder to think what our brother or Aunt Eithne (writer’s note: pronounced Eth-Nah) would say once they find out about this...”

“Perhaps that you were lazing about while I was doing all the work as per usual.”

“Hey!”

Two women appeared in the doorway of the Mess Hall then, and Bethany was startled to find that one of them rivaled her older sister in both height and size. She was a warrior through and through if the impressive greatsword over her shoulder and her overall physique was any indication. Her mane of hair was the color of pale wheat, the length of which was held in a braid that trailed down half her back, and her eyes were a deep, stormy grey. The woman she was carrying—her sister, according to their conversation—was much slighter in comparison.

Rather than sharing in the warrior’s blonde-haired looks, hers was a stark, raven-black. The loose curls trailed to roughly chin-length with a longer fringe that covered one of her eyes—the color a whisper of smoke than the darker grey her sister had. The woman’s arms were also crossed over her chest as she regarded her sister—deeply-unimpressed—before her features cleared at the sight of their visitors.

“Ah. Stroud. Glad to see you and your companion made it across the Waking Sea safely. We weren’t expecting you both for at least another day, or we’d have sent an escort to meet you at the port.”

“No need for the trouble. The winds were kind during our voyage, Warden-Constable,” he said before tilting his head in concern. “Although it appears we’ve arrived too late to help you both. Has the darkspawn presence been more troubling as of late?”

The warrior whom Bethany deduced to be the Warden-Commander merely snorted. “They’re not as plentiful as they were a year ago thankfully. With Niamh’s and Velanna’s respective magic, our branch here has slowly been sealing any access tunnels we’ve come across, but our enemy may just be as awful as vermin with how they manage to reappear in other areas.”

“The incidents have been isolated so far as we can tell, but they’re capable of disrupting travel all the same. On that note…” The Constable trailed off as she turned her gaze toward the Warden who had been showing them about the Keep. “Nathaniel, we have guests from the caravan mentioned earlier. As it’s getting rather late, Saoirse and I decided it was best not to press our luck by letting them travel so soon after the darkspawn attack. Could you and Varel direct them to the guest quarters? We’ll arrange an escort for them to Amaranthine first thing in the morning.”

He pressed a fist over his heart respectfully as he bowed his head. “Of course.”

“Wonderful. Now—”

“Now we get you back to your quarters so that we can tend to your injuries,” her sister interrupted, cheerily grinning when it led to the other woman scowling outright, as if she had been reminded of her current position.

“And I’m more than capable of walking there on my own. Put me down!”

“And risk you further injuring yourself? What type of sister would I be if I were to allow that to happen? Now then!” The Commander directed a smile Bethany’s way, and she jerked in place at the sudden attention. “You’re the latest to join our Order, aren’t you? Stroud mentioned you were a mage. I don’t suppose you know any healing magic, do you?”

“Oh.” Bethany blinked. “Um, well, yes. I have some experience with it.” She had tended to her sister’s and their friends’ injuries often enough back in Kirkwall.

“Excellent. Would you mind tending to Niamh here as best as you can while I go find Velanna? I’m pretty sure my sister fractured a few ribs in that fight earlier.” She chuckled. “And don’t worry if she gives you any trouble; she has a history of being a terrible patient,” she added, earning a pained grunt for her troubles when the woman in question elbowed her sharply in the chest.

---

And before Bethany knew it, she found herself alone with the Warden-Constable in her quarters.

She was trying not to blush at the sight of the woman reclined against the propped pillows at the headboard of the bed. Modesty didn’t seem to be an issue for the other mage. Without another word, she had undressed—with a few occasional winces here and there as the movement pulled at her injuries—and was now bare from the waist up, save for the bindings around her breasts.

Bethany couldn’t help her own wince when she saw the livid bruising that covered the right side of the woman’s torso. It almost looked like the trunk of a tree had been slammed against it if the abrasions and bits of bark embedded into the cuts were any indication.

And she kept insisting to try and walk on her own with an injury like this? she thought in absolute disbelief before delicately pressing the tips of her fingers against the bruise. Despite being as gentle as possible, it still drew a sharp hiss from the Warden-Constable, and Bethany jerked her head up to see the other woman’s clearly pained visage.

“Sorry!”

“No, it needs to be done. Keep going,” she insisted even as pale eyes closed themselves to focus on breathing in and out evenly—albeit with some difficulty.

With permission given, Bethany laid her hand out over the woman’s side, drawing her magic out with a silvery-blue light. From there, she began sounding out the extent of the Warden-Constable’s injuries by feeling where it burned hottest beneath her palm—an indication of how bad the damage was. There was always a tickling sensation that spread out to her fingertips whenever she gently coaxed broken bones back into place. It was akin to puzzle pieces slowly sliding back together before she could encourage them to heal, and she waited for the pulsing waves around them to fade into a dull echo before focusing on the next fractured bone.

As for the bruised muscles surrounding them, they were far easier to deal with. Bethany poured magic beneath the skin in gradual increments—droplets of rain spilling into a cup one by one—until she felt the burning heat simmer down to a more bearable ache. She continued the process, slowly sliding her hand along the woman’s side until the patchwork of blues and blacks which had covered its expanse faded into a yellowish tinge and the superficial cuts had closed themselves. Bethany pulled away then with a satisfied smile.

“What song was that?”

Bethany blinked, turning her gaze up to see silvery eyes staring at her curiously. “Hm?”

“You were humming something while you were healing me.”

“Oh.” She felt heat gathering along her cheeks at the revelation. “It’s an old lullaby my mother used to sing to me. When my father first taught me healing magic, I used to hold my breath while I was performing the spell, but as you can imagine, it’s not a very sound idea unless you want both an unconscious healer and patient.” Embarrassed laughter spilled out of her then as she brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “After a time, I learned that humming a few songs was useful in reminding me to breathe.”

“I see.” The Warden-Constable smiled, looking a great deal more relaxed as she reclined further against the headboard. “Well, thank you.”

“Of course.”

The Warden-Commander walked in then with Velanna in tow, and the warrior seemed surprised to see her sister still in bed. “Did you actually manage to get her to stay there the entire time?” she asked incredulously.

Bethany blinked in confusion at that since her patient had otherwise been well-behaved. As it was, she could only nod tentatively, causing the other woman to grin openly.

“Hah! Well done! I didn’t expect Stroud to send me someone who could cow her into submission.”

The Warden-Constable’s eyes narrowed then. “It was not my hearing that was damaged in that fight, Saoirse. You would do well to not make such comments before me,” she deadpanned, and despite the threat, it only drew hearty laughter from her sister, who soon drew her attention back to Bethany.

“Stroud said your name was Hawke, right?”

She shifted uncomfortably, having grown too used to her surname being used to refer to Emrys, but she nodded all the same. “I’d prefer just to be called Bethany if that’s alright.”

“Ah. Understandable. Can’t tell you how many times my sister and I both answered ‘yes’ in the same room whenever someone called out for a Warden Cousland.” She smiled. “In any case, welcome to the Fereldan branch of the Grey Wardens, Bethany. We’re glad to have you with us.”

---

After that, Bethany settles into Vigil’s Keep.

She sends letters home every now and then, but they’re usually only addressed to her mother. They’re never really long—just enough to let her know that she’s alive and well. Although Bethany realizes it’s a petty thing, she doesn’t ask about Emrys or send her anything for that matter. She’s still angry and resentful that her older sister managed to escape their adventure down into the Deep Roads unscathed while she got cheated out a future, leaving her to a life of killing darkspawn until the Calling finally takes her into the abyss of death. 

Melancholy is ever her constant companion, but eventually, she gets paired with Niamh for missions, who teaches her much about their duties as Wardens over the months, which takes them all around Ferelden. They deal with darkspawn sightings and document areas where they’ve sealed off underground routes into the Deep Roads with earth-based magic, hopefully preventing them from returning so regularly to bother nearby provinces.

As partners, they slowly become closer.

---

"Do you regret it?" Bethany asked one night as they sat by the campfire, watching as Niamh effortlessly flicked a hand to control the size of it just as a strong wind passed beneath the rocky overhang they'd taken shelter under. "Being a Grey Warden, I mean?"

Niamh paused, giving the matter some thought. "There are worse things to be, I suppose." She shrugged. "For a time, I hated the idea of being a mage because it took me away from my family. However, my being a Grey Warden was likely the only thing that saved me from being slaughtered with the rest of them when Howe plotted his coup. It likely also saved me from dying at the hands of my colleagues in Kinloch Hold when one of the Senior Enchanters overthrew it with blood magic and his followers.” She looked over at Bethany then. "Truthfully, I enjoy being able to see more of the world than through the cage the Chantry kept me in. I like the experience of being a part of it even in the moments that people dislike most."

Niamh held a hand out past the edge of the overhang, casually catching droplets of rain in her palm. Bethany watched as a slow smile spread across her features at the sound of another crash of thunder, and she couldn’t help how her own heart seemed to quicken upon seeing that serene expression.

"Our lives are more finite than they ever were," Bethany said distractedly, knowing all Wardens had only a few decades at most after their Joining.

"They are," she conceded. "That’s why I intend to make the most of it." Niamh's expression then turned sheepish as she turned back toward her. "I’m sorry. That probably wasn’t the answer you were looking for, was it?"

"No," she admitted, but as mellow as the other woman was, she was hardly surprised. Niamh had a way of remaining positive despite everything else life seemed to throw at them. Bethany smiled in spite of herself. "It was an honest one though. Thank you."

---

Every day is always an interesting adventure.

If not darkspawn, they deal with brigands out on the road or aid people across the countryside. To Bethany’s surprise, their help is openly requested sometimes when they reach a new town or village. Following the Blight, the utter bravery of the Grey Wardens had earned them Ferelden’s deepest respect. Thus, despite the fact they’re two mages traveling about, their regalia draws easy admiration and conversation alike.

It’s admittedly an odd feeling to have as a mage: to be wanted.

Bethany slowly grows to enjoy it though, especially when she can help with her magic so openly without being reviled for it.

Sometimes the jobs asked of them are simple enough: deal with a band of thieves, rid the area of rabid animals encroaching too close to farmland, helping out with some odds and ends around the village, etc.

Given that Niamh is a veteran of the Fifth Blight, Bethany also ends up learning a lot of survival skills from her during their travels together. She’s endlessly amazed by how the other mage utilizes her magic in combat and with other tasks such as hunting or fishing.

Bethany’s understandably shocked when she realizes that Niamh knows how to shapeshift, often scouting the skies as a raven to search for any nearby danger or roaming the wilderness as a sleek-looking, black wolf to hunt for game. It’s an unexpected revelation, especially since the other woman admitted to having been a part of the Circle most of her life before being recruited as a Warden.

She’s never met another mage so intriguing.

While Anders had been a benevolent healer, offering his skills to those most in need, it was his restless anger—an almost blind righteousness—over the plight of mages that gave Bethany pause.

Merrill was sweet in comparison, of course, and Bethany never minded talking with her even if there were the occasional cultural gaps that led to amusing misunderstandings at times. Still, the other woman held an interest in blood magic that Bethany wasn’t entirely certain she was comfortable with. After all, she had grown up hearing about the dangers of such magic from the Chantry. Then again, Andrastian religion also denounced who she was as a person as well, which was depressing in its own right…

While Niamh’s aptitude for elemental magic alone is impressive, Bethany is certain the woman’s shapeshifting draws upon some form of ancient or arcane magic—something well outside of the Circle’s teachings. It draws her curiosity endlessly. As such, Bethany asks her about the skill one day. Niamh just smiles, idly toying with the wooden ring that sits on a cord of black leather around her neck, revealing that a former companion taught it to her.

And that’s how Bethany learns about Morrigan.

---

“What?” Bethany exclaimed when Saoirse revealed how she was able to survive the slaying of the Archdemon. “You’re telling me that she and Niamh were able to…” She trailed off, trying to fight the blush burning across her face as her mind began imagining the possibilities of how such a conception was possible.

“You know, I thought to ask Niamh the technicalities of it once, but given she’s my baby sister—and obviously lacks the essential, uh, tool for the matter—I just decided it was best not to pry,” Saoirse answered dryly. She idly waved her hand about. “I don’t care to learn about her intimate life any more than she cares to know about mine,” she added before the corner of her mouth lifted into a lazy grin. “But for all intents and purposes, Kieran is my nephew, and Morrigan’s very much family now despite her protests to the contrary.”

“And he has the soul of an Old God?” she asked quietly as she turned to look at Kieran and the two women who were his parents.

Oghren had heard of their latest visitors and was—

Bethany squinted in confusion.

He was doing some type of weird jig in front of the baby, who was currently in Morrigan’s arms. Unfortunately, the erratic, uncoordinated nature of it did nothing to amuse him or his mother. Seemingly uncomfortable by the sight, Kieran gave an unhappy whine before reaching out toward Niamh, little fingers grasping repeatedly in her direction. Morrigan transferred him easily into the other woman’s arms when it was clear she wouldn’t mind holding him, allowing her to dryly berate the dwarf while Niamh comforted their son.

“So Morrigan says, yes,” the warrior answered with a shrug. “I originally turned down her ritual because I couldn’t bear the thought of subjecting an innocent life to such a fate, but I can’t be mad at the result. I still have Leliana because of it, and I can see how much Niamh adores both Kieran and Morrigan.” Her smile softened. “She has a piece of the happiness that I always wanted for her—something Niamh felt she could never find in this world, terrible as it is for mages at times.”

Bethany couldn’t help but agree at the latter sentiment.

Looking at the three of them, they certainly did seem like a happy family. Still, Bethany couldn’t help but feel some small pang of envy. While she had discovered that Niamh could draw just about anyone into easy conversation with her, she was rather private about her personal life. It wasn’t until recently that Bethany discovered she was even in a relationship—let alone one involving another woman. She had no issue with the idea or with Morrigan for that matter. The other mage was well-matched with Niamh on the basis of intrigue alone, but…

Bethany bit her lip.

After all those long months together with Niamh, she couldn’t help but feel—

Bethany nearly swallowed her tongue when she realized sharp, golden eyes were staring at her over Niamh’s head—as if somehow reading her thoughts. Morrigan was tall for a woman of Fereldan origin, but not nearly as much as Saoirse. With her dark hair and pale skin, she was as bewitching as she was powerful—her magical aura a fount of seemingly endless, wild energy. Bethany almost felt like prey beneath the other woman’s gaze, and she averted her own nervously.

Thankfully, Morrigan made no comment about it, but Bethany did wince when she heard her suggest turning into bed early to Niamh. She and Kieran had arrived relatively late in the day after all, so they were no doubt tired from their travels. Niamh gave no objections, and they soon headed off to the woman’s personal quarters.

Bethany sighed soundlessly.

She was no stranger to infatuation. Her attraction to Leliana back in Lothering was a testament to that fact. Granted, it was also somehow deeply ironic that her commanding officer was now married to the same lay sister who had since gone on to become the Left Hand of Divine Justinia.

Sometimes she couldn’t help but think the Maker enjoyed toying with her in subtle, annoying ways. In any case, like with any other infatuation, she would just have to wait for the one she had on Niamh to run its course.

It couldn’t last forever after all.

---

Spoilers: it does.

---

During one of her occasional visits, Morrigan left Kieran temporarily in the care of Niamh to follow up on a magical lead involving some of her arcane research. As they weren’t needed outside of Vigil’s Keep for anything, Bethany also got to watch over him as well, and as she did, she brought up a question that she had long been curious over.

"You said you started the ritual with Morrigan when you were already a Warden, weren't you? I thought Wardens became barren after the Joining though?"

"Hm. That's the assumption, yes," Niamh said as she idly waved a stuffed griffon over Kieran, delighting the baby instantly as they laid on the floor together. "I’d been a Warden for a little over a year at that point. Perhaps it was still soon enough that infertility hadn’t affected me yet, or the spell did something to compensate for it."

Bethany just nodded as she looked over at the two of them. "I see bits of you in him."

"Do you?"

"Yes," she admitted easily enough. "There's his sweet nature, the way he seems far too clever for his own good at times, and how his eyes light up whenever he smiles or laughs."

Niamh chuckled, flattered over the assessment. "Morrigan and I are always arguing about it. I see more of her than me in him, but then she retorts that he’s retained my love of sweets and just about every known creature in existence." Her smile widened when tiny, grasping hands finally succeeded in pulling down the stuffed griffon in her hands, and Kieran wasted little time in snuggling the toy to his chest with a pleased hum.

"Do you regret not being able to see him whenever you wish?"

"Sometimes," Niamh answered, "but Morrigan’s mother…" She trailed off with a frown even as she ran a hand affectionately through her son’s hair. "She’s powerful, and she’s hurt her before. I can understand her caution. I’m willing to go years at a time without seeing them if it means they’re safe."

---

Morrigan eventually returns, and she takes Kieran with her to hide and do magical stuff as Empress Celene’s Arcane Advisor in Orlais as per canon.

Several months pass.

Although Niamh had professed to understanding the need for her little family’s relocation, the distance means that visits from them are now few and far in between. Bethany can see how much the other woman misses them and how she worries about their safety. She often catches Niamh distractedly playing with the ring on her necklace, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

As if anticipating that, Morrigan does send letters to Niamh every now and then, and Niamh’s entire expression lights up every time she receives them, learning how the other woman and Kieran are fairing in Orlais along with how their son continues to grow by leaps and bounds.

She cannot fault the happiness Niamh has found with Morrigan, but it also serves as a constant reminder of what life will never offer to Bethany.

Eventually, it gets to a point where Bethany grows resentful of their relationship because her own feelings for Niamh are just so strong by then. It causes her to lash out at Niamh one night in camp, angry with how calm and positive she always is despite knowing they all have a death sentence over their heads.

---

"What world do you live in that you see it through such an idyllic lens?! You can wax poetic about this life all you like! I never asked for this! I never asked for the darkspawn to steal what little I had from life only to be made the gatekeeper against the very things I despise most in this world!"

And Niamh was quiet for the longest time, having stopped mid-sentence over Bethany's sudden tirade. As the silence continued to drift over their camp, so too does a veil of sudden cold air, and Bethany realized far too late that she’d crossed a line with the other woman.

"No one does, really," Niamh admitted at last, the warmth gone from her voice. "Save for Saoirse and my brother, I lost most of my family, but the terrible thing was that it wasn’t even darkspawn that killed them or even the Blight. It was just one man’s petty greed for what he felt was owed to him. He pretended to be my family’s ally for decades, and under the cover of night, he used his men to slaughter nearly the entirety of my bloodline. My parents, my sister-in-law, my nephew… He was only eight when it happened, you see. Oren wanted to a warrior like my siblings. He was trying to defend his mother with one of those wooden swords young boys tend to play with, but against the likes of Howe’s men...”  She clenched her jaw. “They gutted him just like everyone else."

Another pause stifled the air between them even as Bethany stared at Niamh, horrified.

"Darkspawn are terrible, yes, but they’re not always as terrible as people," Niamh said, eyes narrowing as she looked into the fire. "We can be so far worse. If I'm at all patient, it's because I try to be kind in a world that offers so little of it. I want to believe it can be better than it was before. I want this to be a better place for our people, but I also want to ensure that tragedies like that never happen again. That the people caught in the middle—victims of simple circumstance—don’t have so suffer. If it means I must be a Grey Warden in addition to a mage, then I accept it. To do otherwise damns them as much as me."

With that, Niamh then gracefully rose to her feet and headed back to her own tent, leaving Bethany alone at the campfire.

The rest of their journey back to Vigil’s Keep passed without much conversation between them despite Bethany’s attempts. Niamh only said enough to give a suitable answer, but she never offered anything more beyond it. A vault door had seemed to close behind the cool grey of the eyes that had long enraptured her, offering little warmth. It was clear Bethany was no longer privy to the other woman’s innermost thoughts and feelings

Niamh wasn’t petty, however.

She still hunted when necessary so they didn’t starve, and as was long part of their agreement together, Bethany continued to cook whatever game she caught. Other than that, however, Niamh offered no friendly greetings in the morning when they woke or any words that allowed her to wander off peacefully into the Fade as she slept.

Bethany didn’t realize just how much she’d miss them.

---

When they finally return to Vigil's Keep, Saoirse is confused by how quiet and despondent her sister seems to be. Given how amiable Niamh normally is, she has a right to be concerned.

She pulls Bethany aside one night to ask what happened since they normally get along so well, but Bethany and Niamh haven't even spoken a word to one another since their return.

Bethany ruefully explains the situation, but she doesn't reveal the actual reason why she lashed out to begin with. As such, Saoirse just assumes it was just the usual stress of being a Grey Warden.

---

"Ah. It happens to the best of us, really. Here." Saoirse handed Bethany a tin box. Something Orlesian, according to the script on it. "Leliana’s currently away on business in Val Royeaux, but she sends care packages out to me whenever she can. This one's for Niamh though. It's tea," she explained with a laugh. "She loves this stuff more than anyone else I know."

Bethany still felt badly over the situation however.

“What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“Oh, Niamh’s too well-mannered to outright ignore someone,” Saoirse insisted with a brief snort. “If anything, she becomes more… Well. ‘Distantly-polite’ as my wife would describe it. Besides, I have it on good authority that she never turns down a good cup of tea.” A lazy, conspiratorial grin played on her lips then. “Especially if there’s a spoonful or two of honey in it.”

That eventually culminated in Bethany making tea for Niamh that evening, who had been locked away in her office as of late. Bethany was still nervous despite receiving permission to enter the room, allowing her to face the woman who she hadn’t seen in nearly a fortnight. Concern grew within her when she saw the shadows beneath Niamh’s eyes—a familiar indication that she had been working far too hard. She watched as Niamh struggled to blink the exhaustion from her eyes as she regarded her, but she otherwise said nothing, simply waiting to hear what Bethany required of her.

“I’m sorry," Bethany said at last, contrition clear in her voice. "This isn’t the life I would have wanted for myself, but I shouldn’t have lashed out at you when you were merely trying to help.” She held out the still-steaming mug of tea in her hands—the very thing Saoirse had convinced her would make for a suitable peace offering. “Here,” she offered with a tentative smile. “If you’re going to be working through the night again, you should at least drink something.”

For a time, Bethany believed the other woman was just going to remain silent. It would have been well-deserved given how terribly she behaved the other week, but then Niamh reached out to gently take the mug from her.

"Thank you," she said at last, the ice slowly melting behind those wintry eyes, and as they did, Bethany could feel the vice around her heart gradually unhinge itself in relief.

---

Things pretty much go back to normal between them.

Niamh and Bethany are back on the road again, especially after several reports of wandering darkspawn near the outskirts of a town.

As expected, however, Bethany's longing toward Niamh is still there—constant as an evening star. Even with the taint of death coursing through them, Niamh’s aura emanates with so much life—like a forest in winter, cool and refreshing with the scent of pine buried beneath its depths, waiting to burst into spring’s lively greenery with just the barest spark of magic.

It fascinates her.

She often wonders if such single-minded focus is a side effect of the Joining other than the enhanced physical strength and the ability to sense darkspawn. She feels a hunger that is never sated, a thirst that is never parched, and also…

Amber eyes wander over to where Niamh is disrobing to bathe in the nearby river, and she catches sight of the elegant play of muscles along her back before she studiously turns her gaze away. She feels the way her face burns even as she feels something else stir in her veins.

---

While still traveling, they get attacked by some hapless bandits, and while the two women aren't hurt, they manage to lose one of their tents to a stray grenade.

They end up sleeping in the remaining tent together, but it’s small, and they huddle together inside it for warmth against the pouring rain outside.

Bethany is surprised when she unexpectedly wakes up in Niamh’s arms—one is around her waist, and the other is curled behind her shoulders—which pull her closer in sleep. Sometimes she’s amazed at just how warm the other woman is, and although she knows she should pull away to avoid any awkward conversations in the morning, she can’t bring herself to do so. This is probably as close as she’ll ever get to the intimacy she desires with Niamh, and while the moment won’t last forever, it’ll be one more memory she can cherish—something no one else can ever steal from her.

Idly, Bethany listens to the rain outside—now a gentle pattering instead of the rage of a growing storm—falling against the material of the tent, and the sound is so rhythmic that she begins to doze off again.

---

Sometime after that, they receive a letter from Stroud, who requests their assistance with a matter out in the Free Marches. Saoirse stays behind to oversee things at Vigil’s Keep, which leaves Niamh and Bethany to travel across the Waking Sea with Nathaniel as additional support.

They arrive in Kirkwall several days before the qunari invasion begins in full, but not long after they do, Nathaniel’s reconnaissance around the city reveals something terrible:

Bethany’s mother was murdered.

Bethany is understandably upset, but Niamh and Nathaniel do their best to comfort her. They end up holding a small wake in honor of Leandra.

By the time they manage to rendezvous with Stroud, the qunari invasion has already begun, and they’re caught in the middle of it, leading to the Wardens running into Emrys Hawke and her companions.

Emrys obviously wants to talk to her little sister, but Bethany is resistant to the idea since her emotions are still riding high with the news of their mother’s death and the ever-present resentment regarding how she was made into a Warden without her say so on the matter.

Niamh recognizes Bethany’s tension and politely tells Emrys to leave the matter be for the time being. There is little point in having a conversation if one half of the party isn’t ready to have it after all.

Running on adrenaline, the warrior objects and tries to push her out of the way, but Bethany retaliates immediately on Niamh’s behalf. She presses her hand against her sister's chestplate and essentially shoves her back several steps, momentarily forgetting her Warden strength. Both Hawkes seem surprised by the ease in which she can do that.

---

“Bethany?” Emrys uttered in confusion, especially as her sister outright glared at her.

"You do not accost Warden-Constable Cousland that way!"

“Wait… ‘Cousland?’” Emrys looked over to the woman in question, taking in the obvious staff situated across her back. A wolf’s head ornament adorned the top of the weapon in exquisitely-sculpted silverite, and her eyes slowly widened in realization, remembering tales of the mage who could bend the very heavens to her whims. “Wait, you’re the Storm Wolf of Ferelden? Sister to the Hero of Ferelden?”

The woman merely gave a long-suffering sigh in response. “I suppose I was being too optimistic in assuming Leliana’s tales would’ve lost their weight this far past Ferelden’s borders…”

---

Despite the chaos ravaging itself across Kirkwall, the Wardens can’t stay to help. As such, they’re not there to see the end of the invasion. It isn’t until Bethany returns to Ferelden with the others that she receives a letter from Varric, saying that Emrys nearly died in her duel against the Arishok.

While Varric takes the time to mention that Emrys is recovering, and that her bravery led to her becoming Kirkwall’s Champion, the idea that Bethany had nearly lost the very last member of her family is so shocking that she's left inconsolable one night.

---

"I was such an absolute wretch to her before we left, and she nearly died afterward!” she wept when Niamh came to check on her in her room. “She’ll never forgive me!"

The other woman’s eyes are sympathetic as she held her in her arms. "Don’t be so sure."

"How can you say that?" Bethany demanded as she looked up at her, eyes red and swollen with grief.

"I’ve seen the way you talk about her, Bethany. The memories stir up more than just hurt within you,” she explained. “They light your eyes up with joy in remembrance of them. I’m sure she misses you and wishes things had gone differently. She wouldn’t have bothered sending all these letters to you otherwise over the years.

"My siblings did the same when I was still in Kinloch Hold, where I often wondered if my family had forgotten all about me. There were times I feared my being a mage would have meant their love for me would have gone away, but it didn’t. I received letters from them all the time—sometimes over the most asinine things like Saoirse’s warhound tossing bits of her armor into the pig pen." Niamh rolled her eyes, but Bethany could see the fondness in her gaze before they refocused on her.

"Your sister has asked for nothing in return even in the times where you never sent word back. I won’t tell you how to resolve this. You were right in saying that no one truly asks for this life, but I believe she only had the best of intentions when she entrusted your safety to Stroud. Trust in that if nothing else, and if you still find the matter wanting, tell her so." Something sad and brittle lingered on the smile she shared with her. "The what-ifs hurt more than the reality of things at times. No one deserves that."

---

Niamh helps to cheer Bethany up over the course of several weeks.

They’re off in a nearby town, investigating more sightings of darkspawn, and Niamh goes downstairs to pay the innkeeper for breakfast while Bethany packs up some of her belongings to continue their journey. When she reaches for her staff, she blinks, startled to find an ice flower blossoming on the end of it. She stares in surprise at the door the other woman had left through because there’s no way someone else could have done this.

It's almost like something out of a scene from one of those romantic tales Leliana used to tell her back in Lothering. She had thought them nonsense at first—that surely no one actually did such sweet things in real life—but now…

Bethany gently brushes her fingers over the beautifully-conjured petals and leaves, feeling the cool aura radiating from them.

Now she’s not so sure.

---

During their travels, they’re ambushed by darkspawn, and in the middle of the fighting, the ground manages to crumble beneath both women’s feet. The fall is long and painful as they slide down an old mine shaft, and soon they find themselves down in the Deep Roads. Unfortunately, it's an area they haven't charted yet, so they have no idea where they even are.

They have rations from the last time Niamh hunted and smoked some game, but they know it won't last forever. They can feel the press of darkspawn everywhere against their senses, and it's difficult to get any real bearing down in the tunnels because of it. The ambushes are sporadic throughout the days as they try to find their way back to the surface. They have taken to sleeping in brief shifts so they’re not caught unaware.

One fight lags on long enough that they have to retreat, but their enemies lead them right into the lair of a broodmother.

Bethany has never seen something so hideous in all her life, but when she turns briefly to Niamh, she’s disquieted to find the other woman looks more terrified than she's ever seen her. She barely has time to think over that before the darkspawn attack them again, but now they have the broodmother and her various tentacles to dodge as well.

The fight rages on for quite awhile, long enough that Bethany voices the thought they might never see Vigil's Keep again.

---

“No.”

"Niamh—"

"No!" she repeated firmly, glaring as she lashed out with an arm, incinerating an advancing line of darkspawn to their right. "I am getting you out of here! I swear it!"

You.

Not us.

What are you planning, Niamh? Bethany couldn't help but think worriedly.

Then she felt the sudden rush of magic—causing Bethany to almost stumble in place at the overwhelming sensation—as Niamh’s aura manifested itself more tangibly in an array of colors. Blinding arcs of lightning and lines of roaring flames raced across her form, and Bethany could see her own breath forming in rapid, exhausted puffs as the temperature inside the entire cavern seemed to drop even as the stone walls rattled ominously from the breadth of absolute magic being conjured.

The power of it was soon unleashed as Niamh slammed her staff end into the ground, allowing countless rays of energy to simply explode from her body. They radiated out like spectral hands of vengeance, and the cries of the darkspawn were nearly drowned out entirely as utter destruction rained down upon them. Each blast hit like deafening peals of thunder, and the echoes of them spanned for several long heartbeats, leaving Bethany’s ears ringing even after everything eventually fell silent.

As the dust and debris finally settled from the turbulent winds, she could see the other mage leaning heavily upon her staff, utterly exhausted. Each breath she took seemed to be a laborious effort, but Bethany watched as those eyes remained keenly alert to their surroundings, waiting to see if any of the darkspawn she had laid waste to would try and attack them again. They both tensed upon hearing the low, wailing groan of pain, and they looked to the far side of the cavern to see the broodmother still alive—albeit barely.

While already repulsive, it was now a macabre mass of flesh, bleeding sluggishly from the wounds inflicted by Niamh’s attack. Bloated skin bore severe burn marks, and entire chunks of flesh were missing. One of the broodmother’s arms had been severed completely, but the heat from one of the elemental attacks had unintentionally cauterized the fat stump even if Bethany grimaced upon seeing the pink-tinged bone that still protruded from it. The broodmother’s entire form seemed to slump back with what they assumed was her final breath, but then the sudden sound of earth breaking behind them alerted them far too late to a final danger.

Bethany turned her head just in time to see a lashing tentacle sprout from the ground, and her mind barely registered the sight of it before she heard the frantic call of her name along with warm hands pressing against her side.

"Bethany!"

As if time had slowed itself, she watched in horror as Niamh pushed her out of the tentacle’s swooping path, but in doing so, the other woman took the brunt of the attack entirely. Niamh was sent flying into one of the naturally-formed pillars of the cavern, impacting it hard enough that it broke at its center, raining rubble down upon the mage resting eerily still at its base until she was buried beneath it.

Bethany’s eyes remained fixed on the sight even as she shakily rose to her hands and knees. An overwhelming sense of disbelief overtook when her longtime partner didn't emerge at all out of the stone pile. In fact, there's a terrifying lack of anything in that direction.

Nothing of the taint in Niamh's blood.

No sound.

No magic.

Just... nothing.

Distantly, she could hear the half-dying moans of the broodmother somewhere beyond her peripheral vision. Although Bethany was all too aware of how dangerous her current situation still was, all she could feel was a staggering rush of absolute rage building inside her. It seemed to grow with every beat of her heart until she could hear it pounding inside her ears—a drumming sound of accusation over the fact that she had been powerless to help someone dear to her yet again.

It was her anger that gave birth to the sudden burst of power—whether a second wind or simply a dying gasp, she didn’t immediately know—but Bethany whirled to face the grotesque beast, magic already gathering within her hands. With an infuriated cry, she pressed her palms out, and she felt the immense displacement of air around her immediately as she summoned enough force magic to take up almost the entire space of the cavern. The pressure of it proved too much against the broodmother, and Bethany watched impassively as its enormous body was flung toward the far wall with enough violence that it was reduced to a grisly splatter of darkened blood, pulverized bone, and putrid meat.

With its death, Bethany felt the presence of darkspawn waiting beyond the cavern retreat even further, as if afraid of tempting her fury. Safe from any immediate threats, however, she wasted little time in rushing over to where she last saw Niamh. She used her hands and magic to try and dig her out beneath the rubble, but when she found her, fear took hold of her immediately when she realized the other woman wasn’t breathing anymore. Desperately, Bethany tried to use her healing magic in an attempt revive her, but to her utter dismay, the chest beneath her hands remained impossibly still.

“Oh, no…” she breathed. “No. No! You can’t be dead! Niamh, get up!”

But her cry fell on deaf ears.

Despite her best efforts, no matter how much healing she tried to force through the other woman’s veins, Niamh didn’t respond. As each minute continued to pass by in silence, Bethany began to wonder what she’d have to tell Morrigan if she ever made it back to the surface, let alone the little boy with Niamh’s kind smile. It would be such a terrible thing, she knew, informing them the woman they loved died trying to save her.

Just like everyone that ever entered her life.

Leaving before she even got the chance to give her goodbyes.

Bethany withdrew her healing magic and began conjuring lightning beneath her hands instead—the same way Niamh had taught her once upon a time—desperate for anything that could attempt to shock some life back into the other woman. Niamh’s body jolted with each burst of power, head lolling about along the dirt, but she still remained impossibly beyond Bethany’s reach—perhaps now wandering past the Fade and into the Maker’s embrace.

At the thought, her anguish soon gave way to anger.

“Damn you, you selfish wretch!” she shouted as she pressed her hand over the woman’s sternum with another pulse of electricity. “I never asked you to try and save my life! You don’t get to do this to me! You don’t get to just leave me here when I never had to chance to tell you everything! Not when you don’t even know I love y—”

Just as she went to jolt the other woman again, Bethany felt a hand firmly wrapping itself around her wrist.

Shocked, she looked up toward Niamh's face, especially as she heard a very weak cough. The other mage hadn't opened her eyes yet, but she saw how the still blue-tinged lips began to move—too soft for her to hear anything. Bethany lowered her head to listen more closely and soon heard a quiet question.

"...are you alright?"

Her breath caught in her throat, and fresh tears began to fill Bethany's eyes again in spite of herself.

Even after everything they had both suffered through, Niamh's first concern had still been solely for her.

With a shaky breath, she carefully curled herself up against Niamh’s form, crying silently even as she rested her hand against the other woman's stomach to continue and apply weak, healing magic.

That was how the other Wardens found them later.

"There they are."

Bethany didn’t pick her head up off the floor, but there was little mistaking Morrigan's distinct voice. Saoirse’s own followed soon after.

"I owe you my thanks for this, Morrigan."

“Thank your sister; I would not have been able to find her were she still not wearing the ring I gave her years ago.”

A weary chuckled greeted the mage’s words. “Ever the sentimental woman, my little sister…”

The sound of heavy footsteps treading closer caused Bethany to look up, and she could see Saoirse kneeling down next to them. The warrior’s face was worn with stress, but there was nothing but relief in her eyes as she saw them both together. "It appears I owe you my thanks as well, Bethany." She jerked her head up then, shouting out an order. "Get a litter for them now!"

"But I'm not nearly as injured," Bethany protested, drawing her hand away from Niamh’s body self-consciously, especially when Morrigan appeared and began to take over healing and stabilizing the woman’s condition with fresh magic.

"No," Saoirse admitted even as her lips lifted up into a tired smile. "But you and I both know what a terrible patient my sister is. I’ll be depending on you to make sure she behaves herself if she wakes up during our trek back to Vigil’s Keep.” She gently clapped a hand over Bethany’s shoulder. “Thank you. I owe you a debt.”

“Warden-Commander—”

“No. Niamh and I have lost enough in our lives. It would have hurt me to lose her as well.”

---

Niamh remains unconscious for several days as she recovers back at Vigil's Keep.

Bethany and Morrigan basically take turns looking after her.

Despite the other woman’s position as a member of Orlais’ Imperial Court, it seemed Morrigan returned to Ferelden after receiving a frantic letter from Saoirse, saying that Niamh and Bethany had been missing for several days following a routine mission.

As mentioned in the previous section, Morrigan gave Niamh a ring, which would allow her to find her were she ever in danger. It proved especially useful when Niamh and the other Wardens were imprisoned in Fort Drakon, where Saoirse essentially put her foot in her mouth and ruined their attempt to sneak Queen Anora out of the estate she had been held captive in.

I believe the ring is only canonically available if a player is in a romance with Morrigan. However, I’m headcanoning that because she held Niamh in such high esteem, she gave it to her anyway.

Kieran is also present at Vigil’s Keep because there’s no way Morrigan was leaving him behind in Orlais. He’s about five years old at this point, and he’s grown to inherit both his mothers’ looks. A crown of dark, loose curls sits atop his head much like Niamh’s, and he even fashions a forelock like hers, which hangs in front of his right eye. His gaze is a piercing shade of gold reminiscent to Morrigan’s own. As a possessor of an Old God Soul, he’s also begun to speak cryptically at times, which is understandably jarring to those around him.

Bethany happens upon one such conversation by accident, and she immediately pauses in the doorway when she sees Morrigan and Kieran standing at Niamh’s bedside.

“Sire was caught within the paths of the Fade, Mother. She heard the voices of old ghosts calling to her, but she didn’t follow them.”

Morrigan indulgently runs a hand through her son’s hair. “Indeed; she did not.”

“She missed them though, but she still returned to us.”

“Of course. Why would she desire an eternity without you?” she asked with a fond smile, causing Kieran to giggle.

“That’s not why, Mother! Not completely.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She would have missed the Sunshine too much. She’s been following her warmth for years. It would have hurt her to be without it.”

Kieran’s words pull at Bethany oddly, but she soon pushes them out of her mind and quietly walks away, feeling too much like an intruder upon the small family.

Thankfully, Niamh regains consciousness not long afterward, and everyone is understandably relieved by this news.

As per usual, however, Niamh proves herself to be an exceedingly stubborn patient, but perhaps wanting to set a better example for Kieran after her near-death experience, she remains in bed for the duration of her recovery. The other woman doesn’t seem to mind too much, especially given that her son continues to keep her company, telling her of the various odd things he’s seen around Orlais and the even odder people.

After several weeks under Morrigan’s watchful eye, the witch begrudgingly says that Niamh's okay to begin light duty around the Keep, relieving the other mage immensely. She goes out herb-gathering, an excuse just to get out of the fortress, and Bethany volunteers to go with her.

Things are quiet between them for a time as they begin picking up elfroot to place in the shared basket between them. Their conversations as of late haven't been of anything too substantial. A good thing, Bethany thinks, considering her feelings for her and how close she’d been to revealing them. Soon, however, they're caught in the middle of a light rain shower, and Bethany says they should head back. She begins to lead their way out of the forest when Niamh’s words stop her in her tracks.

---

"I was waiting for you to say it again, you know."

Bethany looked over her shoulder in surprise to still see Niamh standing in the middle of the clearing, her gaze expectant. “What?” she asked nervously.

"When I nearly died, I heard you say something… significant to me,” she revealed, causing Bethany’s heart to pound as she stared at her in disbelief. “However, when I recovered and you never repeated those words again, I thought it might have been little more than a fever dream of mine." Niamh's smile turned sad then when Bethany said nothing else to her words. "Perhaps it was after all... I’m sorry. I’ve made this rather awkward then, haven’t I?” She took a few steps closer, reaching toward the basket of herbs Bethany still held in her hands. “Here, let me—”

But Bethany just let it drop to the ground before she reached out to grab the collar of Niamh’s cloak. The other woman seemed taken aback, but before she can even begin voicing a question, Bethany pulled her forward to kiss her desperately in the rain, swallowing her gasp of surprise.

As far as first kisses went, it was a touch awkward as their teeth clicked together, lips mashed between them. Bethany felt a moment of panic as Niamh pulled back, but before the urge to run away in mortification could overtake her, a warm palm pressed itself against the back of her neck, keeping her in place. There was the brush of knuckles as they ran along her jaw, and Bethany was just able to catch the silver of Niamh’s eyes before all thought fled from her mind upon feeling the soft press of the other woman’s mouth on hers.

Bethany followed into the easy guidance being offered, and they both soon settled into a comfortable rhythm that sent pleasurable shivers down her spine. She felt light-headed with giddy delight, and her hands reached out to hold onto Niamh’s hips, helping to ground herself there, as their kiss continued. There was a soft sound as Niamh sighed contentedly into her mouth, as if she had been waiting just as long for this moment between them.

The thought seemed almost too impossible to comprehend, especially when she knew Niamh was committed to someone else. As such, Bethany pulled away first despite the sound of protest it caused. Despite her resolve, Bethany was reluctant to pull away from Niamh entirely, so she settled for gently leaning her forehead against the other mage as they panted quietly in the rain.

"I'm so sorry," she said breathlessly, practically speaking the words against Niamh’s lips. "It wasn't my intention to interfere with your relationship with Morrigan."

As close as they were, there was little mistaking the clear confusion in the eyes across from hers. "'With Morrigan?'" Niamh repeated. "What does she have anything to do with us?"

"But… I thought—” Her brows drew together in consternation. “Aren’t you both together?"

"What? No," Niamh answered, almost amused by the idea. "When we laid together for the ritual, it was an agreement of mutual benefit meant only for that night. She's not—Well." An exhale of breath escaped her in the form of laughter. "Morrigan's admitted she's not interested in women—or anyone, really—in quite that way, but none of the male Wardens with us at the time dared to lay with her even if it meant sparing us all from death. She trusted me, and I her. I consider Morrigan one of my dearest friends, and we share Kieran together as a result of that night, yes, but we are certainly not bound together as others seem to believe."

And Niamh’s answer suddenly changed everything.

What Bethany had been feeling, what was now possible between her and Niamh...

She couldn’t help but smile as she finally realized she could have a bit of the happiness she’d always wanted for herself.

---

So everyone knows that they’re a couple after that.

Niamh becomes more overt in the romantic things she does for her—the very same things Bethany had thought were the woman simply being thoughtful. She finds out that Niamh had apparently been interested in her for awhile and had actually been ready to confess her feelings a few years ago, but their first argument, where Bethany had accused her of being too idealistic, had stemmed the thought immediately.

Niamh had been understandably heartbroken by the words, which was why she’d had been so despondent for weeks following the incident, believing Bethany had no romantic interest in her whatsoever. The apology in her office later had restored their friendship, and while Niamh had been disappointed it likely would never evolve into anything more beyond that, she was still determined to be a good friend to her if nothing else. 

Bethany’s completely exasperated at the idea that they could have been together long before now, but she realizes it was likely better this way.

She had needed time to get over her anger and resentment regarding her life as a Warden.

She needed time to get past her guilt and the complicated thoughts regarding herself and her faith.

And she needed time to grow into herself and discover who she was as a person.

She’s grateful that Niamh’s been so kind and patient over the years, and Bethany finds great joy in the new facet of their relationship together.

They’ve kissed and been involved in heavy makeout sessions around Vigil’s Keep—much to the exasperation of their colleagues—but barring the incident that led to Kieran’s conception, Niamh’s been celibate for years, and canonical dialogue in DA2 reveals that Bethany’s pretty much a virgin. As such, she’s understandably very shy and nervous about the whole thing. However, she knew every part of her would be in good hands with Niamh when they finally reached that point.

Their first time together takes place several months after their first kiss, where Niamh tries her utmost to make it a memorable thing for them. She takes Bethany to a grove they frequent together outside of Vigil’s Keep for a midnight picnic. The moon is full, and the skies are clear, revealing an endless sea of stars. Little fireflies dance over the surface of the lake while they sit on the grass along its shore.

It’s a casual reminder that for all their hardship, life goes on and finds a way through a magic all of its own.

They stargaze for and handfeed each other little bits of food in between kisses, but soon things start getting a little more heated. Niamh gently tugs Bethany onto her lap, who follows willingly, settling her knees on either side of the woman’s hips. Bethany takes some initiative of her own, pushing at Niamh’s chest slowly until she lowers herself against the grass, and then…

---

Bethany’s breath caught in her throat upon seeing Niamh’s features haloed by the soft glow of the little fireflies. Normally pale eyes had darkened at their edges with both pleasure and interest as she regarded her, leaving Bethany flushed, especially as she realized she doesn’t quite know what to do from there on out.

Perhaps having sensed that, Niamh reached up to gently run a thumb along the corner of her mouth, and Bethany barely resisted the urge to press her lips against the pad in a kiss as slim fingers then went to cup her cheek gently.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” Niamh reassured as she brushed a few strands of Bethany’s hair behind an ear. “I quite like kissing you.”

But Bethany did want to.

She knew Niamh had more experience with sexual intimacy, and she worried she couldn’t be able to compare against the woman’s past paramours. There was no expectation in those starlit eyes however. Niamh was as relaxed as she had been when they first started, and Bethany knew she would have been more than content to lay with her beneath the stars if that was all she desired. She was always considerate with her feelings, never pressing her to do more than she was ready.

Thus, Bethany knew Niamh would be patient with her during their first time together.

“If I asked, would you show me what to do?” she whispered tentatively, and she watched as the corners of those lips turned up into soft smile.

“Always,” Niamh answered, gently tugging Bethany’s hand toward the buckle holding the front of her leather and steel-riveted brigandine closed. “Here. Help me out of this first please.” 

From there, Bethany quickly realized it all wasn’t quite as simple as the tawdry novels Isabela used to loan her made it out to be. Nothing really prepared for the warmth of the flesh beneath her fingertips as she gradually disrobed her lover of the layers that made up their Warden regalia. Fortune favored the bold, she knew, and she experimented by pressing kisses against skin as more was revealed to her. She smiled against Niamh’s sternum—pleased—when she heard the exceedingly rare quiver in her voice.

As promised, however, the other woman continued to give suggestions on what types of touches would best give pleasure, but she also allowed Bethany to set the pace of whatever she felt most comfortable with. With each encouraging whisper against her ear, each caress and rock of her hand became more confident. When Niamh shuddered beneath her for the first time—the barest hint of magic curling against her own—as she reached her peak, Bethany was convinced that she had never felt more triumphant.

And she didn’t think she had ever felt so unfettered when Niamh later returned the favor by kissing a line of fire down her bare body. Those mist-grey eyes never left her own gaze though. Bethany had long known how attentive the other mage could be. As their lead tactician, there was always a studious quality in how she approached anything set before her.

Feeling the full magnitude of that attention focused solely upon her, however, was another matter entirely. Niamh stared at her as if she had hung the very moon and the infinite tapestry of stars into the night sky. It was like she was her very reason for drawing breath, and the thought of that brought forth a stunning wash of emotions over her as she saw the clear reverence in those eyes—so much so that she couldn’t help the tears beading themselves across her lashes nor her soft, surprised exhale of laughter when Niamh leaned up to gently kiss them away.

It was only when she assured her lover that she was ready to continue that Niamh returned to her exploration. The woman was committed to learning every part of her, gauging every physical response—the touches that made her moan breathlessly or sigh in contentment with the press of lips against her skin—before reacting accordingly. She felt that dedication most vividly as a warm mouth settled between her thighs and began working itself thoroughly there.

Bethany couldn’t help but break eye contact with Niamh as she threw her head back against the cool grass, lost to the new but pleasant sensations coursing their way through her body. Her hips seemed to move of their own volition, especially as the almost overwhelming heat of a tongue pressed itself flat and lapped languidly at her.

After a time, it felt like she was freefalling, and she blindly reached out toward Niamh. One hand sank itself easily into the tousled waves of raven-black hair, but with the other, Bethany found slim fingers gently intertwining themselves with her own. There was strength and reassurance within the warmth of that grasp—a steady tether to ground her—even as Niamh continued with her ministrations, quickly unraveling the foundations of her world.

Were you the answer this entire time?

Were you the one whom my heart was always waiting for?

Bethany found her answer just as her climax crested over her.

---

The next scene takes place several months after Niamh’s and Bethany’s first time together but just before the Kirkwall Rebellion.

Niamh heads over to Amaranthine to see her aunt, Eithne Mac Eanraig, since she's the Arlessa there.

Now, here’s where I’m veering off from canon.

Per the events of Awakening, the Warden ends up becoming the Warden-Commander, and for their services during the Fifth Blight, Vigil’s Keep along with the entire arling of Amaranthine was given to the Grey Wardens. The fortress and the territory originally belonged to the Howes, but after Rendon Howe’s betrayal, all titles and properties were stripped away from them. As such, the Warden-Commander would also become the Arl or Arlessa of Amaranthine.

Per my headcanon though, Saoirse felt that she couldn’t tend to both her duties as a Warden while also ruling over the arling. Thus, she suggests to King Alistair to let her aunt oversee it instead.

While Eithne is technically my own creation, it was canonical that Eleanor had three siblings prior to marrying Bryce Cousland. All the children of Bann Fearcher Mac Eanraig—also known as the Storm Giant—were exceedingly skilled raiders although Eleanor was the most infamous of them. Still, I headcanon that Eithne’s own prowess allowed her to take over as head of the family and their impressive fleet after her father’s death sometime before the events of DAO.

I also headcanon that the Mac Eanraigs and their fleet proved instrumental during the Fifth Blight, allowing desperately-needed supplies to travel to the country without fear of them being intercepted by pirates. When the reconstruction of Ferelden began in full following the defeat of the Archdemon, Eithne opted to expand the services of her family’s fleet, offering to escort any incoming and also outgoing cargo ships. This allowed trade to flourish in Ferelden since the threat of piracy was reduced greatly against the might of the former raiding family and their respective crews. With goods being consistently transported and received, it led to the otherwise pricey import and export tariffs being lowered significantly.

It expanded the influence of the Mac Eanraigs considerably to say the least, and while they were of minor nobility compared to the Couslands, the family was already well-respected for their long connection to the Storm Coast and their role in the Fereldan Rebellion as well as the Fifth Blight.

As such, no objection was given by Ferelden’s Bannorn when the Mac Eanraigs were consequently raised further in nobility by the decree of King Alistair and Queen Anora, allowing Eithne to officially be named Arlessa to the city of Amaranthine.

---

"Aunt Eithne," Niamh began, walking into her office, "may I have access to the castle's forge?"

The older woman was sat behind her desk, looking through various reports when she glanced up at her. Kind, weathered features warmed instantly. "Ah, there's my wee Storm Pup," she said as she rose to her feet to meet her. "You know you’re welcome to anything within the castle, lass. I take it that blacksmith of yours is being stubborn at Vigil’s Keep again?"

As per usual, Niamh found herself looking up at her aunt as she rounded the edge of her desk. While her late mother Eleanor had been roughly her own size, the Mac Eanraigs as a whole towered over most people with their intimidating height and broad-shouldered frames—traits that Fergus and also Saoirse inherited as they grew into adulthood. In her youth, Niamh remembered that her Aunt Eithne had also possessed her mother’s pale blonde hair, but it had since turned silver with age and was now kept in a neat braid that dangled in front of her right shoulder. She imagined that Saoirse would likely resemble their aunt greatly in looks over the next few decades.

…provided they find a cure against the Calling first, of course.

Morrigan’s arcane research had turned up several possibilities, but the latest one she’d found seemed especially promising. Still, Niamh put the thought from her mind momentarily to answer her aunt’s question.

"You and I both know Master Wade won’t allow anyone to go near his forge. He’d pout for weeks on end before we could convince him to resume work again,” she said dryly before shrugging. “Just as well, I suppose. He can’t keep a secret to save his life. What I have in mind is more of a personal project."

Dark grey eyes blinked. "Oh?" she intoned curiously.

"It's... Well." Niamh shifted from foot to foot, a tad nervous to put her thoughts into words. "I'm making matching torcs for Bethany and I, so—oof!"

No sooner after she had stated her purpose did Niamh unexpectedly found herself drawn up into a crushing hug by her aunt, who lifted her clear off her feet with the force of it.

"Haha!" Eithne crowed with delighted laughter as she twirled her about. "Wait until I tell your uncles about this! Why, it’s been ages since we’ve had a wedding in the family!"

"We had one a year ago for Fergus and Olithia," Niamh corrected hoarsely as she tried to wriggle out of her aunt's grip to little avail. Corded muscles built over a lifetime at sea ensured the woman’s strength was nigh unbreakable. "And there was another for Saoirse and Leliana before that."

"Details, wee niece, details," she brushed aside when she placed Niamh back on her feet again, placing large hands over each of her shoulders with a grin. "Honestly, I was half-convinced my ashes would be scattered across the sea before I saw my last niece be married off! Dermot!" she called out loudly beyond the walls of office to her second-in-command, leaving Niamh wincing from the sheer volume of it. "Break out the casks! We’re celebrating tonight!"

Niamh merely sighed, somehow glad that Bethany was currently away from Vigil’s Keep with Nathaniel to tend to a matter out in another seaside province. There was no way she’d be able to surprise her with a proposal otherwise.

---

Bethany didn't know what to really expect when Niamh took her out to their favored grove, but then she was offered a… necklace of some sort. It was thick and sturdy but exquisitely-crafted. It formed an incomplete circle, but there was no clasp holding both ends together. As she took the necklace into her own hands, she found there was a certain pliability to it as she stretched the space between the twin, silverite wolf heads open a bit more.

"I spent weeks getting the details just right," Niamh admitted. "The hardest part was finding the perfect bits of citrine to match your eyes," she added, pointing to the small, gemstone orbs held in the maw of each wolf.

"You made this for me?" Bethany asked, awed.

"Yes. It’s a custom from the maternal side of my family. They’re generally gifted to those of status or individuals who have achieved great deeds. The more bands woven together designate one's importance." Niamh's expression turned somewhat sheepish then. "I don't think it needs to be said that I think highly of you."

Bethany looked at the thick braiding and saw that there were at least five bands wound together in a cord and then welded together.

"I..." Niamh wet her lips briefly, as if caught beneath sudden nervousness. "I realize marriage is usually just a matter of settling titles and heirs, but I believe you know by now that my family tends to eschew commonly-held norms. As such, I would consider it a great honor if you were to become my wife. As for anything official—a wedding for instance—we needn't concern ourselves with it right away. Not if you don't wish to certainly." Silver-colored eyes rolled themselves. "Honestly, my family uses any type of excuse available to throw a celebration. They’ll likely still drink the night away, knowing that I’ve finally settled down with someone."

Bethany couldn’t help but laugh at that. "They were that invested, were they?"

"Before you, they had a tendency to think I was more married to my duty within the Order, and I can’t say that were not wrong in thinking so."

"And that’s changed?"

"Well... I was managing day by day as well as any of our comrades, but I won’t lie in saying that there came a point when you were all I could ever think about in the many moments in between."

It was… quite the confession.

In an instant, all the stories her mother had ever told her of romance paled in comparison to this moment.

"Yes," Bethany said at last, watching as the ghostly-grey eyes across from her widened, but there was little hiding the hope building within their depths.

"Yes?"

"Yes to the—" She stumbled a bit over the word. "—torcs, you said?” Bethany asked in clarification, earning her a nod along with a very relieved sigh. “I don’t want a ceremony.” She bit her lip as she stared down at the thickly-braided necklace. “At least not just yet, but I like the idea of the promise these contain.”

“You would like to have your sister here when the time comes,” Niamh deduced understandingly. “Very well.”

“You can wait?”

A very warm smile burnished beautiful features that she had long fallen in love with so many years ago. “A Chuisle Mo Chroí,” she began, voicing an endearment that never ceased to make her heart flutter, “for you, I would gladly wait a thousand Ages and more.” (Writer’s note: A Chuisle Mo Chroí is phonetically pronounced Ah Khush-lah Muh Kree and means “Pulse of My Heart.”)

The words earned her a heartfelt kiss of gratitude. If Niamh noticed Bethany was trembling, she said nothing of it. In fact, they both had little to say at all as they slowly lowered themselves to the grass and surrendered themselves to the night and the promise of everyday thereafter.

---

The Kirkwall Rebellion still happens in this verse, and because Saoirse's busy butting heads with the higher-ups at Weisshaupt, she sends word to Niamh, asking her to go to Kirkwall to provide Leliana backup if things get bad. Bethany is concerned as well about the well-being of her sister Emrys, and she asks to go with her. Niamh, of course, can't really deny her anything, so they both take the fastest ship across the Waking Sea.

---

"There you are," Bethany declared when she managed to come across her sister and her companions despite the chaos around them. She settled her staff over her back, walking through the tangle of defeated Templars around her to meet them. "We’ve been looking everywhere for you. I'd almost feared you were dead."

Emrys hadn’t expected Bethany’s presence in the city, but she’s beyond elated to see her. At her words, the warrior merely preened. "As if they'd be able to best me. And, uh, what’s this about 'we?'" Emrys asked, confused. “Did you bring the other Wardens with you?”

“Just one.”

As if attuned to her thoughts, Niamh made her entrance then by Fadestepping through a handful of Templars—who had arrived on scene as backup—freezing them in their tracks. She and Bethany had momentarily split up to try and cover more ground in search of Emrys.

Bethany arched a brow at her sister while gesturing toward her lover with an emphatic wave. "You remember Warden-Constable Cousland, don’t you?"

Emrys had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed as she recalled their last meeting, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she regarded Niamh. "Oh. Yes. Uh, about the last time we met—"

But Niamh seemed amused more than anything, waving aside the apology graciously. “Bygones, Champion. No need to worry yourself about the past. My sister’s a warrior as well; I’ve fared worse on the rare occasion."

"In any case, Sister, if you need help, we’ll gladly give it."

“Really?”

“Yes. I…” Bethany swept a bit of hair behind her ear nervously, but as Niamh settled alongside her, offering her wordless support, she continued on. “I wanted to apologize for what happened down in the Deep Roads and for how we parted the last time I was here. You saved my life, but I couldn’t see past my own anger back then. I’m sorry,” she whispered, contrite. “I should have said it long before now. You’re all I have left of our family, so if you need help against the Templars, say the word.”

Emrys looked beyond thrilled at the prospect of having her at her side again. “I’m certainly not going to turn away help now of all times, but…” She shot a look of confusion over toward Niamh. “I thought Wardens weren’t to involve themselves in political matters?"

The other mage merely sighed. “While true, that follows a line of policy that my sister and I strenuously object to, especially given the matter involved here. She and I will deal with the leadership at Weisshaupt later if need be." Slim shoulder shrugged themselves then. "Of course, even if my sister-in-law weren't nearby, Bethany wanted to help, and that was good enough reason for me to be here."

Emrys’ dark brows rose at the claim, and she immediately turned a searching gaze over toward Bethany, who couldn’t help but turn her own away, flushing somewhat.

"Yes… Niamh and I are a bit of a package deal these days."

Unfortunately, the minor shift in movement allowed for something else to be revealed, and Isabela took notice of it immediately as her eyes darted toward the area of her neck just beneath the collar of her uniform.

“Wait… is that a torc?" she asked, brows raising, impressed.

“A what?" Emrys asked, flustered, especially when she saw the matching one that Niamh was also wearing.

“It's a little bit of tradition from my mother’s side of the family,” Niamh explained. “They’re beautifully-crafted pieces of jewelry, but they can be as symbolic as rings, especially in the ceremonial sense."

"'Rings?'" Emrys parroted with a choke. “‘Ceremon—’” The warrior paled instantly as she realized the implication, shakily pressing her hand against a nearby wall to steady herself when she began swaying in place. “Oh, Maker’s breath… I think—I need a moment,” she murmured, and Bethany watched—concerned—when Emrys practically folded in over herself, working to catch a breath. After a time, Emrys’ comically-wide blue eyes turned over to Niamh. “You’re married to my baby sister?"

"Engaged, technically," Niamh answered, blinking owlishly at her reaction. “I proposed to her before we left Ferelden."

---

Annnnd then Saoirse shows up because she got worried about Leliana, and she and Emrys get along like peas in a pod. They’re exceedingly competitive with one another though...

---

“Hah!” Saoirse crowed, grinning smugly at Emrys as she rested the flat of her greatsword along her shoulder. “Is that the best Kirkwall’s Champion can do? I managed to neatly cleave my opponent in half.”

Emrys merely scowled, matching pace with Saoirse as they marched toward The Gallows. “Only because I helped! Besides, that strike wouldn’t have held against him if he had a shield as well!”

“Yes, it would have!”

“Lies!” Emrys scoffed. “It would have been caught halfway through the shield before you would have been able to reach his armor!“

“Not with the proper leverage it wouldn’t have!”

As they argued heatedly about sword techniques, Niamh and Bethany shared a long-suffering glance with one another before moving on ahead of their respective sisters.

“Warriors…”

“Indeed.”

---

Eventually, this all culminates in that huge battle at the end of DA2, where Meredith is defeated. As per canon, it becomes clear that it’s no longer safe for Emrys and her companions to remain within the city without eventually facing possible repercussions from the Chantry. As such, they begin scattering to the winds not long after the end of the rebellion.

---

"You could come with us, you know," Emrys suggested.

Bethany looked over to where her sister stood next to Isabela, ready to board the ship that would take them to Antiva. Emrys’ expression was almost painfully hopeful, but Bethany knew it wasn't meant to be. Although she had resented it once upon a time, she had a duty to the Wardens, and she would not easily abandon it. She said as much to her sister.

"No. Niamh currently seeks a cure that affects the lives of every Warden."

"A cure for the Calling?” she asked, surprised. “Is that even possible?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. She is easily the cleverest person I’ve ever met though. If there is a solution, she will be the most likely one to find it, and I will not stand to be apart from her."

"I see.” Emrys rubbed the back of her neck, shoulders slumping somewhat. “So… this is goodbye again."

It was admittedly a bittersweet feeling, knowing that this had been the first time in years they had seen one another and it would likely be several more yet before they would meet again.

"For now,” she answered quietly. “You have your life, Sister, and now…" She glanced over at Niamh, who was talking to the captain of a ship heading back to lands far to the west—ones that had never been touched by the Blight, according to Morrigan. “I have mine.”

Emrys followed her gaze. “You seem happier."

"I am."

“That’s all I ever wanted for you, you know? Just to know that you were happy.”

“I know that now." Her smile turned more genuine as she stepped forward to wrap her arms around Emrys, hugging her for all she was worth. "I wish the same upon you always. Safe travels to you and Isabela, Sister."

---

And as mentioned in the bullet points up above, they spend several years traveling abroad. Some days are harder than others as they meet their fair share of challenges, but Niamh and Bethany support each endlessly through it all.

They both return to Ferelden several years after the Trepasser DLC when they’ve found a cure for the Calling. With the taint purged from their bodies, they’re guaranteed the long life that would have otherwise been denied to them. As such, Niamh and Bethany finally get married—torcs gleaming bright—as Leliana as Divine Victoria officiates the wedding.

---

And that’s pretty much it.

I have about 20 pages of random scenes I’ve yet to elaborate on for this AU, including one for the huge battle at the end of DA2, so while I don’t see it as being nearly as long as OtSttCA, it’ll likely make for quite the lengthy read when I finally get a chance to work on it properly.

Still, if this verse interests you, leave me a like, a comment, or just swing by my inbox to tell me your thoughts! Until next time, readers! Take care!

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Crew of the Omen.”

A little bit from the other new alien species aboard the ship, as requested. I hope you like it :) 

Tesraki

The Tesraki had all worked with humans before, but when they mean they had worked with humans, it was more like they had been around in the area where humans were working and mostly tried to stay out of their way. Between the two younger Tesraki Captio and Subit, they talked a lot about how the soldier Tesraki,  Etium had been involved in the Drev war..

They weren’t entirely sure if that was true or not seeing as there were very few Tesraki who had actually survived an encounter with the Drev, but the chunk missing from his ear, and the way he seemed to show so much deference to the humans when they first stepped aboard the ship.

Than and he didn’t seem as afraid of them as the two younger Tesraki were.

And there was a lot to be afraid of

Stepping aboard the human ship, it became very clear that they were entering a different world.

They huddled together behind Etium, their ears drawn back to their heads, their tails tucked together as they stood before the massive room watching as large machines and hovering trucks rolled by. The human voices were raised, yelling up over each other in their guttural chattering call. They had been on the ship before of course, but this would be the first time the doors would be shut behind them.

A group of humans stepped past them, their large armored feet clattering against the ground, their bodies moving like lithe snakes.

There was a lot of money being moved here, and a lot of money being moved very poorly, though none of them were quite sure how to bring that up.

“New meat!”

They turned on the spot to see a human sitting cross legged atop a cargo crate. It showed them his teeth. The two younger Tesraki squealed and backed away hiding behind the older as they looked up at the grinning predator above them.

Etium seemed to be the only one who wasn’t concerned.

“M-meat.” One of them whispered 

He wasn’t aware the word accountant meant something different in their culture… that being that they were going to get eaten.

The human slipped down from where he was sitting to land on the floor.

The Tesraki squealed again and backed away.

“Fresh meat is a figure of speech. Just means you are new on the ship. We don’t eat sentient lifeforms.”

They couldn’t help but notice that he left out the non-sentient lifeforms. When the humans looked at them, they looked at them hungrily, like maybe fresh meat had not been some sort of figure of speech like it was claiming. Still, they kept relatively quiet unsure of what to believe.

“Don’t listen to them, they just like to mess with people.”

The Tesraki turned in a sharp circle watching as another human came marching up through the ship long fur billowing about their head.

“They don’t mean any harm. It's just a social hazing ritual they like.”

“I am familiar.”

The two younger tesraki glanced at Etium ears pulled back.

That would have been nice to know earlier.

They looked back, watching as the doors receded into the distance, and knew they were walking into a den of predators.

Celzex 

Everything here was big, very big, and it sort of managed to make them very angry. They marched onto the ship, though their marching didn’t get them more than a few feet onto the human ship before they almost got stepped on by a marching column of humans. They froze in place led by their leader who stood tall before them, the very real son of lord Celex, Lord Avex.

He waited, and they waited, for his great stature to attract the attention of the humans. 

Of course, it did not take long until his presence stopped another column of humans bringing cargo in from the other side of the hanger. They drew to a halt just before the Celzex, their eyes widening in fear. A few of them made vocalizations of confusion and intimidation, that manifested as very high pitched squeals for a human. They lifted their hands before their faces and chest as if to guard themselves from the danger that the Celzex possessed.

“Lord Avex, we were told of your imminent arrival.” One of the humans announced bowing his head, “There was an…. Extensive briefing about how to treat your eminence.” They bowed their heads in that way humans tend to have to show difference towards their betters.

“Please, allow me and my comrades to escort you to your quarters.” The humans lowered themselves slightly towards the ground, dropping onto one knee, “As a sign of difference to your great status please use these men as your mounts, for the ship is large and we have a long way to go. 

There was a silence as Lord Avex waited eyeing the humans with some concern.

They were a proud race.

From the corners of their eyes, the Celzex could see the humans shifting nervously, probably out of fear and awe to how great and terrible the Celzex truly were in such numbers. 

“We will accept your offer, human.”

The humans prostrated themselves even further, lowering towards the ground so the Celzex could blimp aboard, first onto their knees and then onto their backs, and then onto their shoulders as they took back to their feet. 

From the back of a human they were very high up, and very impressive.

Lord Avex was sure that their group cut a very imposing parade across the ship. The Celzex atop their human mounds, two of the most dangerous species in the galaxy.

And they did turn more than a few heads as they went, with wide eyes and open mouths the other humans stared and made similar sounds of awe and fear as had the others.

The humans on which they rode appeared more than smug, their head lifted pridefully clearly pleased at those they were able to carry.

It was a great honor after all, and who could blame them for thinking so.

The other humans must have been jealous to ferry along such important figures as the Celzex.

And of course they were eventually brought to their quarters on one of the middle decks. It had all the things that they requested, and promised access to a human 24/7 if required.

One of the humans bowed their head to lored Avex, “My lord, Admiral Vir was sorry he could not be here to witness your glorious arrival. He sends his deepest apologies and an invitation to a meal tonight as a human show of good faith. Also, due to his laxness and improper greeting he would be more than willing to act as your steed whenever you wish for his insolence and penance.

Lord Avex found this to be an agreeable apology.

Somewhere Adam Vir was quite pleased with himself for coming up with such a smooth reason to hold a Celzex, while continuing to maintain interspecies relations with one of the most powerful species on the planet.

Burg

Maverick was surprised to find people in the chapel when she walked aboard, less of people and more of an alien and a few people when she stepped in. She was even more surprised to find that this particular alien was not a Tesraki, or a Celex, but a bug-like creature with sharp mandibles, and an array of colorful wings.

“Burg!”

She said the phrase out loud, surprising herself and the burg, who nearly leaped out of it’s own carapace as it turned to look at her. Its wings were a pleasant blue color shot through with little streaks of brilliant green. 

It rested a few of its front hands together and bowed to her as she pulled to a stop, “Greetings, I am Miran, religious scholar of the burg and a social envoy of the new king and queen of the burg homeworld. I am here to foster a mending of relations between our two species and contribute some of our knowledge and culture to your endeavors.”

Maverick lowered her hands.

“I see, I wasn’t aware that the Burg were part of the GA.”

The creature sat on one of the pews, “We are not, formally, but we have since updated our status as a protectorate of the GA while we attempt to mend things between ourselves. Forgive me for startling you so, but I had hoped that you might accept my help in your religious gathering room. During our time of war, the old queen tasked me with learning about your species, and in so doing I fell upon your thriving religious culture that reminded me of the stories of our own before the queen abolished much of our tradition.”

“A burg who is a religious scholar…. I would not have assumed that.”

“And what denomination do you frequent?” He wondered looking at her with expectant eyes and a surprisingly open face for a creature she had once thought to be hideous and gut churning. The butterfly wings helped she supposed, “A random flavor of Christian, though it’s not really important.” She walked over to sit next to the burg who was looking around their little chapel with great interest.

“Do you have a religion?”

The burg’s antenna twitched, and it clicked it’s mandibles, though the way it performs the action was less worrisome than the way that she had seen it in the past, “I do, I do. I follow the old religion, in a time where the burg believed in many gods. I Believe mostly in the gods of the east, the ones that frequent the tops of mountains and are connected with the ideals of honor, adventure, and scholarly pursuits.”

“Honor?” She asked in surprise 

He sighed, “I understand it will take a while for your species to see us for what we really are rather than what our queen has led you to assume about us. But once upon a time we had a rich culture that was perpetuated on the ideals of honor and loyalty, though that loyalty was soon corrupted into the ability to hold grudges for a very long time and that bravery crossed a line into stupidity that nearly had our nation destroyed, but…. I had honestly hoped to talk about more enlightening subjects. Please, tell me more about your great culture and religious traditions.

Maverick smiled, “Where to begin…”

Finnari 

The humans were so nice to them. At first they had assumed that the humans would be scary, and they had been right. The fins on the sides of their heads had flared in agitation as they saw the humans, and they had backed away in concern and worry as soon as someone had approached.

But as the humans stopped and bowed, they were surprised and the gentle way in which they moved, and even reached ou  to touch the finnari in a kind way.

They were welcomed aboard the ship with open arms, and it was quickly accepted that here is where they would be safe.

Here they would be accepted.

The finnari are very trusting like that, and so had no problem when their quarters were proven to be situated right in the middle of the human quarters away from the other aliens at the center of everything. This had something to do with their role on the ship, working specifically with the psychological team (They were expected to be needed quickly) Two of them were healers, nurses by trade, and the other two worked with psychological issues, one of them was certified in a cuddle clinic as it was shown the Finnari ahd a similar impact on other creatures as the humans did.

They would be comfortable here, surrounded by all the humans where they would be safe. WHen you are friends with the wolves, there is nowhere safer to be than in the midst of their den.

And so they got to meet and to know their human comrades very quickly, invited to play games and to sit and chat, A few of the humans, less affable than the others might have attempted to be snappish or aggressive towards them, but they were quickly cut off by other humans who would not allow that sort of behavior.

They were going to get along very well aboard the ship.

Conn

There were more voices here than there ever had been before, and threw as a lot of work for him to get done. Conn had been pleased to learn that he was one of the reasons others were forced to sign a waver when boarding the ship. THey had to acknowledge his presence and tell the GA and the UNSC that they were not liable if Conn decided to share any of their personal secrets. They had to make sure that the UNSC or the GA could not be sued if Conn decided to do something stupid.

He was even more pleased to learn that many potential candidates had dropped out when hearing that he would be on the ship.

He was not, however, particularly pleased about their new mascot, a white Leviathan emblazoned on the side of the ship. The Admiral had argued that the thing had saved his life and Conn had argued that that thing had tried to eat his people in the past.

However when the Admiral pointed out that conn didn’t really care about them he hadn’t really been able to argue, and shut up despite his grouchiness.

Now he was fulfilling a role that the Admiral had given over to him rather silently.

The man hadn’t exactly asked him to do it, in fact he had specifically tried to avoid thinking about it when conn was around because he didn’t think the idea was particularly ethical.

Honestly, it was the whole reason why conn had decided to do it in the first place. If the Admiral didn’t want him to do it for ethical reasons, he was totally going to do it. In a way, Conn was sort of the defacto police force on the ship, monitoring thoughts and the minds of others as he went through trying to determine who was going to be a a problem and who was not though he didn’t mention these to the admiral just yet.

He sort of wanted to see what they were going to do, besides, the Admiral still needed to be punished.

He flated up the hall, reaching the familiar mind of the animal waffles, who he had come to familiarize hismelf with. She was very nervous when it came to leaving the commander now, worried that he was going to vanish for no good reason only to leave her alone like had done not so many months ago.

The Admiral did not plan on it, so he tried to sooth her animal mind just a little.

He floated onto the bridge and behind the man’s seat.

He knew when Adam sensed him.

And they both acknowledged each other

“Conn.”

“Admiral.”

‘Everything goes well?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The Admiral seemed pleased conflating the fact that Conn would do something if anything was ACTUALLY WRONG.

Conn was annoyed to realize he was right. 

[vajranam]

Take 100% Responsibility For Your Life

I make prostration to the Three Rare Supreme Gems. “The Throwing Star Weapon Striking the Vital Point of the Foe.” I make prostration to forceful Yamantaka.

(1) In the case of peacocks strutting in jungles of poisonous plants, although medicine gardens have been finely decked out, the masses of peacocks don’t find (them) enjoyable. Rather, peacocks thrive on the nutriment of poisonous plants. Similarly,

(2) In the case of brave (bodhisattvas) engaging themselves in the jungles of recurring samsara, although glorious gardens of delights and pleasures have been decked out, the brave ones are never attracted. Rather, the brave-hearted thrive in the jungles of suffering.

(3) Thus, it’s the case that, despite our gladly taking on delights and pleasures, we bring sufferings (onto ourselves) through the power of our cowardice. But those brave-hearted ones take sufferings on gladly, and always are blissful through the power of their bravery.

(4) Now here, longing desire is like the poisonous plant jungles. Brave ones, like peacocks, can take it under their control, whereas to the lives of cowards, it would be deadly, similar to the case of crows. How could those with selfish desires take this poison under their control?

(5) And if they similarly tried to apply (this method) to the other disturbing emotions, it would take the life of their liberation, (also) similar to the case of crows.

(6) Thus, it’s the case that brave-hearted (bodhisattvas), like peacocks, transform into a nutriment the disturbing emotions – which are like the jungles of poison – and (thereby) engage themselves in the jungles of recurring samsara. In having gladly taken it on themselves, they’re able to destroy this poison.

(7) So now, while we’re circling (in samara) without control, we must cast away our selfish desires, our desires for pleasures, our delights – these messengers of the demon of grasping at a “true self” – and gladly take on, for the purposes of others, what’s difficult to do.

(8) We must pile on top of (this) “true self” that has desires for pleasures the sufferings appropriate to each of the nine kinds of beings, due to the push from their karmic impulses and their habituation to disturbing emotions.

(9) At times if we’ve come under the enthrallment of our selfish desires, we must turn from them and give our own pleasures and happiness to wandering beings; just as, at times, if wrongs befall us from our circle, we need to compose our hearts with a sense of contentment, feeling, “(This is) in return for having been distracted about my ‘true self.’”

(10) At times when unbearable sicknesses befall our bodies, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having inflicted harms to the bodies of wandering beings. Now, let’s take on ourselves (all their) sicknesses, barring none.

(11) At times when sufferings befall our minds, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having deeply disturbed the mind-streams of others. Now, let’s take on ourselves (all their) sufferings, barring none.

(12) When we ourselves are tormented by terrible hunger and thirst, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having taxed, plundered, stolen, and acted miserly (toward others). Now, let’s take on ourselves (all their) hunger and thirst, barring none.

(13) At times when, powerless, we’re enslaved by others and are maltreated, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having been hostile toward the lowly and exploited them as servants. Now, let’s use our bodies and lives for the service of others.

(14) When only nasty words befall our ears, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from our misdeeds of speech, such as slander and the like. Now, let’s discredit all faults in our speech.

(15) When we’re born in lands that are completely impure, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having always been habituated to (seeing) appearances as impure. Now, let’s habituate ourselves to (seeing) appearances exclusively as pure.

(16) At times when we’re parted from helpful and loving friends, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having lured away to ourselves those in the circles of others. Now, let’s never cause (anyone) to withdraw from the circles of others.

(17) When all hallowed ones are displeased with us, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having forsaken the hallowed ones and entrusted ourselves to bad circles. Now, let’s rid ourselves of bad friends.

(18) At times when others (falsely) accuse us of the wrongs of having done or of having not done something, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from ourselves having denigrated the hallowed ones. Now, let’s not denigrate others (falsely) for having done or for having not done something.

(19) At times when our material goods of necessity fall apart, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having considered of no value the necessities of others. Now, let’s help them acquire their necessities of life.

(20) At times when our minds are unclear and our hearts are unhappy, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having caused other people to build up negative force. Now, let’s give up (providing) conditions for others’ negative karmic force.

(21) At times when we’re frustrated from the depths of our minds that our works are never accomplished, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having caused interference to the hallowed ones’ deeds. Now, let’s rid ourselves of all our interference-making.

(22) At times when no matter how we’ve acted, it never pleases our gurus, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having acted two-facedly regarding the hallowed Dharma. Now, let’s minimize being two-faced regarding the Dharma.

(23) At times when people find fault with everything (we do), this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having belittled moral self-dignity and care for how our actions reflect on others. Now, let’s be shy with respect to uncivilized (behavior).

(24) At times when, as soon as we gather a circle, disagreements (arise), this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having peddled all around our bad ugly characters. Now, let’s act kindly toward anyone at all as our human characters.

(25) At times when all who are close rise up as our enemies, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having harbored inside us bad thoughts (about others). Now, let’s continually minimize our pretense and cunning.

(26) At times when we’re sick with consumption, tumors, or dropsy, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having had no morals and having commandeered religious offerings without caring. Now, let’s give up confiscating monastic property and the like.

(27) At times when, all of a sudden, infectious diseases strike our bodies, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having committed actions causing our spiritual bonds to decline. Now, let’s rid ourselves of destructive actions.

(28) At times when our intelligence becomes murky regarding everything knowable, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having made Dharma matters into things that are fit to be left to the side. Now, let’s habituate ourselves to discriminating awareness, such as from listening (to teachings) and the like.

(29) At times when sleep overwhelms us while practicing the Dharma, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having accumulated (acts of) defilement toward the hallowed Dharma. Now, for the sake of the Dharma, let’s practice what’s hard.

(30) At times when our mental wandering is great, delighting in disturbing emotions, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from not having meditated on impermanence and the drawbacks of samsara. Now, let’s maximize disgust with recurring samsara.

(31) At times when no matter how we do things, they go astray, never working out, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having made light of karma and behavioral cause and effect. Now, let’s make effort to build up positive karmic force.

(32) At times when the measure of our having performed rituals is that things work out contrary (to what we had wished), this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having placed our hopes and reliance on the side of black (magic). Now, let’s turn away from the side of black (magic).

(33) At times when our requests to the Three Precious Gems do not reach fulfillment, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from not having had confidence in the Buddhas. Now, let’s entrust ourselves exclusively to the Precious Gems.

(34) At times when superstition, strokes, and possession by harmful spirits befall us, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having built up negative force with respect to the tantric deities and mantras. Now, let’s destroy all our bad understandings.

(35) At times when we have to wander about, like people not under their own control, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having kicked out gurus and others from where they are staying. Now, let’s never expel (anyone) from any place.

(36) At times when unwished for things happen, like frost, hail, and the like, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from not having safeguarded properly the morality of our spiritual bonds. Now, let’s keep our spiritual bonds clean and so forth.

(37) At times when our desires are huge, but we’re poor in our wealth, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from not having made donations or offerings to the Supreme Gems. Now, let’s make efforts regarding offerings and donations.

(38) At times when our faces and bodies are ugly, and our circle insults us, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having made ugly images and disturbed (others) with our anger. Now, let’s make (beautiful images of) deities and be long-suffering in temperament.

(39) At times when, no matter how we try, attachment and anger upset us, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having stubbornly harbored unseemly bad streams of (self-centered) thought. Now, let’s pull out from the root (concepts of) a “true self” and a “true you.”

(40) At times when no matter what we practice, it does not reach its aim, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having held a bad outlook inside. Now, no matter what we’re doing, let’s make it something for the purposes of others.

(41) At times when, although we’ve performed constructive actions, our own mind-streams are untamed, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having gladly taken on grand ambitions for this life. Now, let’s hold tightly onto the wish for liberation.

(42) At times when, no sooner do we plan (to do something), we reconsider and regret it, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from running after those in lofty positions as our new friends, without caring how this reflects on our old ones. Now, let’s take care about how and with whom we make friends.

(43) At times when we ourselves have been swindled by others’ cunning, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from our selfish desire, arrogance, and greed having been great. Now, let’s minimize our trying to make profit off of anyone.

(44) At times when attachment or hostility have led us astray while listening or explaining, this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from not having thought about the demonic faults in our hearts. Now, let’s examine (these) adverse conditions and then rid ourselves of them.

(45) When everything good that we’ve done has elicited a bad (response), this is the sharp weapon of negative karma circling back on us from having counterbalanced in an opposite manner all our repayments of kindness. Now, let’s accept on the crown of our heads repaying kindness.

(46) In short, the strikings, like lightning on our heads, of (disasters) never wished for are the sharp weapons of negative karma circling back on us, like the murder of a sword smith by his own (fashioned) sword. Now, let’s take care about our negative deeds.

(47) Our experiences, as well, of sufferings in the worse rebirth states are the sharp weapons of negative karma circling back on us, like the murder of an arrow smith by his own (fashioned) arrow. Now, let’s take care about our negative deeds.

(48) And the strikings, too, like lightning on our heads, of the problems of family life are the sharp weapons of negative karma circling back on us, like the murder of parents by a son they have raised. Now, it would be fitting forever to go forth (as monastics).

(49) That really is the way that it is! So, I’ve caught the enemy! I’ve caught the thieving bandit, who laid in ambush and deceived me, the fraud who, disguised as “me,” then cheated me! Aha! This is grasping at a “true self!” There is no doubt!

(50) Now, (Yamantaka,) raise over your head the sharp weapon of your actions! Circle it three times round your head in a forceful way! Plant your two feet wide apart for the two truths! Glare with your eyes wide open for method and wisdom! Bare your fangs for the four forces, and pierce the foe!

(51) O King of Pure Awareness Mantras that torment the enemy, draw out the spoiler of our spiritual bonds, who brings to ruin ourselves and others – that vicious savage, called “The Demon of Grasping at a ‘True Self’” – who, causing us to get struck by the sharp weapons of karma, has been making us run through the jungle of samsara, without any control.

(52) Draw him out! Draw him out! Forceful Yamantaka! Batter him! Batter him! Pierce the enemy, a “true self,” right in the heart! Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(53) Hum! Hum! Produce miraculous emanations, o great Buddha-figure! Dzah! Dzah! Bind this enemy up tightly! Phat! Phat! Free us, I beseech you, from all our fetters! Slash! Slash! I beseech you, cut the knot of our grasping!

(54) Come here, fierce Yamantaka, you Buddha-figure! Pray burst, right now – pow! pow! – this bag of karma and five disturbing emotions of poison, which keeps us stuck in the swamp of samsaric acts.

(55) Though having brought on ourselves the sufferings of the three worse rebirth states, we rush toward their cause, not knowing to be alarmed. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(56) Our wish for happiness is enormous, yet we fail to build up a network of its causes. Our tolerance for unhappiness is little, yet our ambitious desires and greed are great. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(57) Our expectations for speedy success are high, yet our perseverance in spiritual practice is low. The projects we engage in are abounding, yet we never bring any of them to their end. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(58) Our new friendships are copious, yet the future of our concern and sincerity in them is short. Our longing for food is tremendous, yet our hard work goes toward striving to plunder or steal (for it). Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(59) We’re experts at flattery and indirect pressure, yet the gloom of our dispositions is thick. We’re hard-working to gather and accumulate (wealth), yet despite what we have, we stingily clutch it. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(60) What we’ve done for everyone is little, yet our boasting about our hardships is great. What we’ve been responsible for (accomplishing) is nothing, yet our imposing posture is grand. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(61) Our spiritual teachers are numerous, yet our ability to carry the load of our spiritual bonds is minute. Our disciples are abundant, yet it being time to nurture and help them is rare. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(62) Our spiritual promises are grand, yet our practice of helping (others) is tiny. Our spiritual renown is tremendous, yet when it’s examined, (even) worldly gods and demons would be ashamed. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(63) The extent of our listening (to teachings) is miniscule, yet our bragging and showing off with empty words is huge. The extent of our scriptural knowledge is tiny, yet, understanding nothing, we (pretend that we) understand a lot. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(64) Our circle (of followers) and attendants is vast, yet those who bear (in mind what we say) include none. The officials (we know) are plentiful, yet when we need backing and support, we’re bereft of protectors. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(65) Our status is lofty, yet our qualifications are less than those of a ghost. We’re (considered) great gurus, yet our attachment and anger are coarser than those of a demon. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(66) Our philosophical view is the highest, yet our conduct is worse than that of a dog. Our good qualities are abundant, yet we cast to the wind their (ethical) base. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(67) All our innermost longings, we keep (hidden) inside us. While all our affairs that have gone crooked, we blame on others, contrary to fact. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(68) We’ve clothed ourselves in robes of saffron, but then sought protection and refuge from ghosts. We’ve taken on vows (of ethical discipline), but then made our behavior comparable to that of a demon. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(69) Our joy and happiness have been provided by (entrusting ourselves to) the heavenly (Buddhas), but then we’ve made offerings to mischievous ghosts. Our guidance has been fashioned by the Dharma, but then we’ve deceived the Rare Supreme Gems. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(70) We’ve entrusted ourselves to monastic seclusion forever, but then we’ve been carried away by distractions. We’ve requested hallowed Dharma and the spiritual sciences, but then nurtured (others) with prognostications with dice. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(71) We’ve discarded our ethical discipline (as homeless monastics) – the path to liberation – and then grasped onto a home. We’ve thrown joy and happiness into the river, and then run after woes. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(72) We’ve discarded the ford (to cross) to liberation, and then wandered about to the ends of the earth. We’ve found precious human bodies, and then (used them to) accomplish (rebirth in) the joyless hell realms. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(73) We’ve set aside the special (benefits) that come about through the Dharma, and then tried to make profit through business transactions. We’ve set aside the Dharma schools of our gurus, and then wandered about the area of towns. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(74) We’ve set aside our own livelihood, and then stolen for our income. We’ve set aside the sustenance (inherited) from our parents, and then robbed it from others. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(75) Wow! Our fortitude for meditation is little, yet (we expect) our advanced awareness to be sharp. We’ve not taken the first step of the spiritual path, yet our legs are rushing after meaningless things. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(76) We’re given advice for our benefit, and then, with angry minds, take (the persons) as foes. We’re fooled by deceitful (flattery), and then, without a brain, we repay their kindness. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(77) We’re trusted as intimates (by others), and then reveal their innermost secrets to their foes. We’re befriended in goodwill, and then, without care for how it reflects on them, rob them of their inner strength and courage. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(78) Our short temper is perfect, yet our prejudices are coarser than those of anyone. We have difficulty in being friends, yet we continually arouse (others’) bad characters. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(79) When asked to do something (for others), we don’t listen, but rather covertly try to cause (them) harm. When we’re agreed with, we don’t bow (and accept), but rather distance ourselves and seek to argue on. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(80) We get mentally upset at (others’) advice, and then always have difficulty in being friends. Things that cause us offence are aplenty, yet our holding on (to them) is always tight. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(81) Our put-down of high ones is heavy; we hold holy beings to be our foes. Since our lust is enormous, we eagerly take on young people (as partners). Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(82) Since the future duration (of our friendship) is short, we cast off at a distance former friends. Since our new friendships are copious, we lay out before all of them empty promises of fun. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(83) Since we lack clairvoyance, we must readily accept deprecation for our lies. Since we have no compassion, we snatch away the trust (in us of others) in their hearts. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(84) Since our listening (to teachings) is negligible, we must scratch around and guess about everything. Since the extent of our scriptural knowledge is tiny, we generate distorted views about all. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(85) Since we’ve habituated ourselves to attachment and anger, we berate all our opponents. Since we’ve habituated ourselves to jealousy, we libel and discredit others. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(86) We haven’t made proper studies, and so we’re dismissive of the vast (teachings). We haven’t entrusted ourselves to gurus, and so we berate their oral transmission. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(87) We can’t explain The Three Baskets, and so we feign (teachings) that we have made up. We haven’t gained mastery through (genuine) pure visions, and so the gauge (for the authenticity) of our discourse is that we speak, reprimanding. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(88) Toward non-Dharmic actions, we don’t make any censure. But toward all excellent explanations (of the Dharma), we spout forth with insult. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(89) Toward situations to be ashamed of, we don’t hold any shame. But toward what isn’t to be ashamed of, we distortedly hold them as shameful things. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(90) What’s proper to have been done, we don’t do even once. But what’s not fitting to be done, we do them all. Crash, really crash down, right on the head of (this) ruinous concept! Deal the death blow to the heart of this butcher, a “true self,” our foe.

(91) (O Yamantaka), endowed with a Blissfully Gone (Buddha’s) Dharmakaya, destroyer of the demon, the view of a “true self” – oh, wow – (o you,) with strength and force, and possessing a skull-headed bludgeon – the sharp weapon of your actions of no “true self” – circle it three times round your head, with no indecision.

(92) We beseech you, free us from this enemy, with your great ferocious force! We beseech you, smash this bad thought, with your great discriminating awareness! We beseech you, protect us from karma, with your great compassion! We beseech you, demolish (this) “true self,” once and for all!

(93) As much suffering that there is in samsaric beings, heap it, definitely, I beseech you, on my grasping at a “true self!” As much of the five poisonous disturbing emotions that there are in anyone, heap it, definitely, I beseech you, on this one, who’s the same class!

(94) Although we’ve identified, through reason, beyond any doubt, the root of our faults, like this, barring none, if you can expose (any part of us that’s) still taking its side, we beseech you, demolish that very one who’s taking it!

(95) Now, having placed all the blame on one thing, let’s meditate strongly on kindness toward all beings. Having taken on our own mind-streams what others never wished for, let’s dedicate to every wandering being the roots from our constructive acts.

(96) By having taken on ourselves, like that, (the negative consequences) of what others have done over the three times through their three gateways (of action), may the disturbing emotions be transformed into aids for enlightenment, like peacocks having radiant color through (feeding on) poisonous plants.

(97) And by having given to wandering beings the roots from our constructive acts, and, like curing with medicine crows who have eaten poisonous plants, having saved (then) the life of liberation for all beings, may they quickly attain Blissfully Gone Buddhahood.

(98) Till the time when we and all who have been our fathers and mothers attain enlightenment in Akanishta, the Realm Beneath None, may we mutually (help) one another to uphold but one mind ( – the bodhichitta aim – ) although, through our karma, we may roam through the six wandering states of samsara.

(99) During that time, when we’ve undertaken to enter the three worse rebirth states, even for the sake of a single wandering being, may we lead out of the sufferings of the worse rebirth states (everyone there), never letting our great bodhisattva behavior decline.

(100) As soon as (we’ve landed there), may the guardians of the joyless hell realms come to recognize us as their gurus. May even the (rain of) sharp weapons turn into a shower of flowers, and may peace and happiness flourish, with there being no more harm.

(101) Then, when even those in the worse rebirth states have attained advanced awareness and retention power (for the Dharma), and, having taken on heavenly or human bodies, they’ve developed bodhichitta, may they repay, with their Dharma (practice), the kindness received from us. May they entrust themselves (to us), having taken us as their gurus.

(102) At that time, may all wandering beings in higher status rebirths as well, having meditated supremely on no “true self” (of all things), similar to that regarding the “true self” (of persons), then meditate with absorbed concentration, nonconceptually, on the equal nature of compulsive samsara and tranquil nirvana. And may they recognize themselves as being in this equal nature.

(103) If we’ve done like that, this enemy will be destroyed. If we’ve done like that, the concept (of it) will be destroyed. Having meditated on no “true self,” with nonconceptual deep awareness, how could we not have attained the causes for the effect: a Buddha’s Form Body?

(104) Hey, those like me! All of those are things that dependently arise, and what relies on dependently arising cannot be self-supporting. Changing into that over there and changing into this over here, their false appearances are an illusion. They are reflections that (merely) appear, like a whirling firebrand.

(105) Like a plantain tree, our life force has no core. Like a bubble, our life span (too) has no core. Like a fog, having descended, they’re things that disperse. Like a mirage, they’re things that are beautiful (just) from afar.

(106) Like reflections in a mirror, they seem so real, so real. Like a cloud or a mist on a mountain, they seem to stay and to stay.

(107) This butcher, a “true self,” the enemy, is like that. Seeming like it exists and exists, it never has existed at all. Seeming like it is true and true, it’s never been experienced as true anywhere. Seeming like it appears and appears, it’s beyond being an object that can be added or taken away.

(108) Whatever sharp weapons of karma that that (butcher) possesses, although they, too, lack self-establishing natures, like this (enemy) does, they dawn like the reflection of the moon in a full cup of water. These karmic causes and effects are assorted displays that are false, yet, while being mere appearances, hey, I tell you, “We must accept and reject (the appropriate actions).”

(109) When, in the dream world, there blazes an eon-ending fire, though it lacks a self-establishing nature, yet we’re still terrified. Likewise, though what occurs in the joyless hell realms and the like lack self-establishing natures, yet because of fear of being boiled, burned, and so forth, we need to abandon (their karmic cause).

(110) When we’re delirious with a fever, even though there’s no darkness, (we feel like) we’re passing into a deep, long cavern and suffocating. Likewise, although unawareness and so on lack self-establishing natures, we must clear away their delirium with the three types of discriminating awareness.

(111) When musicians are playing a beautiful song, and we analyze, there’s no self-establishing nature of the sound. Yet when we don’t analyze, a melodious sound, which is an accumulation, has been produced and then has relieved the torment in people’s minds. Similarly,

(112) When we thoroughly analyze karmic cause and effect, although they lack self-establishing natures as being the same or as being different, yet, seemingly appearing and appearing, phenomena are made to arise and perish. And seemingly existing and existing, we experience various (things) arising and perishing. Yet, while being mere appearances, hey, I tell you, “We must accept and reject (the appropriate actions).”

(113) When a vase has been filled by drops of water, the vase wasn’t filled by the first drop, and likewise not by each (of the others) – the last one and so on. But rather the vase is full through a dependently arisen accumulation. Similarly,

(114) When we experience any happiness or suffering as a karmic result, it isn’t by means of the first instance of its cause, and it isn’t by means of the last instance and so forth. We experience happiness and suffering through a dependently arisen accumulation. Yet, while being mere appearances, hey, I tell you, “We must accept and reject (the appropriate actions).”

(115) Wow! These appearances of pleasant things which, unexamined (seem to exist as if) all alone, have no core, and yet these things (still) appear as if truly existing! That’s profound! But, it’s difficult for the lesser-minded to see.

(116) Yet now, when we totally absorb on this (voidness), what is there even that is definitely merely appearing? What is there that is existent (at all)? What is there that’s even nonexistent? What is there anywhere that can be asserted as existence or nonexistence?

(117) But if we place our intelligence, without any contriving, serenely in its primordial state, which doesn’t contain objects and what have those objects (both) having actual true natures, and which is parted from all accepting and rejecting and parted from mental fabrication, we shall become great beings.

(118) By practicing conventional bodhichitta and deepest bodhichitta like that, and bringing to completion, without interruption, our buildup of the two enlightening networks, may we attain the splendor (of enlightenment, fulfilling) the two aims.

(Colophon:)

In a jungle retreat where various fearsome beasts of prey roamed, Dharmarakshita, a great yogi (endowed with) scriptural knowledge, logic, and realization, composed (this text) called “The Throwing Star Weapon, Striking the Vital Point of the Foe” in accord with the words of his hallowed gurus. Then he practiced it in that fearsome jungle retreat during his degenerate age.

He imparted it to Atisha, and then Atisha, as well, practiced it, never just partially in this direction or that, in order to tame the many limited beings that were difficult to tame. When he developed realization, he proclaimed these verses in fact:

When I abandoned royalty and practiced difficult austerities, I built up the positive force so that I was able to meet my superlative guru. In showing me this nectar-like teaching, he conferred upon me the power of the Dharma. Having obtained an opponent for the present day (problems), I committed it to memory.

When, having spread my intelligence out and studied all around, without being partisan toward any system, although I saw fathomless wonders (in all of them), this teaching (in particular) has brought benefit in these degenerate times.

From among the many unimaginable disciples he had in India and Tibet, Atisha imparted this teaching to Upasaka Dromtonpa – who had been prophesied by fathomless Buddha-figures, such as the Vanquishing Lady Tara, to be their most fitting vessel – so that it could tame the uncivilized disciples of remote Tibet. The triumphant fatherly (Atisha) and his spiritual son (Dromtonpa) themselves served as the pandit teacher and translator for it.

[nelllraiser]

ouroboros | solo

“it comes to me that both twilight periods are, in fact, symmetrical events on opposite sides of midnight, a cycle of endless creation and destruction, an ouroboros.”

this solo contains references to events in the plot concerning bea’s death. a summary can be found here if desired!

Beltane. The celebration of midsummer. It was a day meant for manifestations, for looking forward towards the healthy and long days of life that were yet to come as the weeks continued to grow warmer, and the world flourished as it carried on with waking from the slumber of its wintery days. And yet as Nell trudged her way through the forest, following a path she’d gone down countless times in years before on the very same day, all she could think of was the past. The winding way through the trees had been trampled flat by a coven’s worth of feet as Nell followed the sacred trail to the meeting place, the clearing where the Witches of the Silver Flame would light their fires for the night, a sea of faces flickering in flames as the patterns played across their features as one, uniting them all. 

She was careful not to get close enough for her old coven to sense her presence, staying beyond the circles they’d set as she climbed one of the trees bordering the charred and hidden place. From the top of its branches she was free to look down at the witches below, barely able to make out the individuals from the crowd as she wiped sap from her hands. One of the blurry figures stepped forwards, and the figure of Nell’s mother was instantly recognizable as she began to lead the rituals of fire, lending her own magical flame to the central blaze of the configuration as others followed her lead. Nisa Vural stood beside the bonfire without a single one of her daughters present for the first time since her eldest had been born, back straight and strong despite the losses she’d cut in the form of kicking them from the coven.

For a long moment, Nell held her breath as the flames licked higher, as if she were simply waiting for the scene of last year to unfold once again. Any moment now August would call out in pain, and she and Luce would drag his agonizing body into the private place where only the beginning of Nell’s secrets had been revealed to her sister. The wheels set into motion for Bea’s death to take place had started to turn on this day meant for beginnings. And it had been a beginning, hadn’t it? A beginning to an end. One end after another. Her sister’s death, their exile from the coven, and so on. But there was no painful scream arising from the formation below. No terror to break the peace of the night now that she and her sisters we gone from the ranks of the gathered witches. Maybe her mother had been right. Maybe the coven was better off without a witch who made deadly mistakes that went on to interrupt the sacred days of a witch’s life. Without Nell— the events of the night could go off without a single hitch or bump, the blooming fires left to thrive on the magic of those that led lives that didn’t result in disastrous outcomes. Maybe exile suited Penelope Vural. Or rather, her exile certainly suited the coven.

What would she have done to walk the path that had brought her here alongside her sisters and brothers in magic for just one more time? To look into the flames and see their shadows shared on Bea and Luce standing besides her while their mother and father looked on. Today was meant for the future, and all the witch could do while sitting above her lost family was think of the past, wish for it, torture herself for ruining it, and hate herself for wishing for the past in the first place.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: Having been living in France for a few years what is your experience and view on the state of the French aristocracy? Do they still play an important role in French society and politics?

This is a tough one to answer because I’m not the best qualified to give you definitive picture. I still see myself as an outsider however immersed I am into French culture. My social circles are quite eclectic and widely spread but still hopelesslly inadequate to answer your question too deeply.

Still I can offer general observations because of my French partner who does come from very old French family roots and also the French wife of one of cousins and her family who manage our shared vineyard. Both to differing degrees are active within the social activities of L'Association d'entraide de la noblesse française (ANF) - the unspoken and low profile group that brings together people from noble backgrounds.

Outside of these two, I also have French friends from my Swiss boarding school days and two sweet curmudgeonly elderly neighbours of mine living in our apartment building. Through them I am afforded a sneak peek of what’s going on behind the scenes if I really wanted to know.

But to be honest, the whole subject never really comes up with any of these people because no one draws attention to it and they are just getting on with life as best as they can. We have so many more interesting things to discuss.

Everyone I know is pretty down to earth and it’s not a defining issue in their life. Having said that there are clues and it mostly revolves around manners, courtesies, and a strong sense of family. But materialism or the pursuit of it isn’t one of these things.

Though the French Revolution was supposed to have eliminated the aristocracy as a powerful political and social presence in France, the contemporary French aristocracy is a thriving social milieu showing no signs of imminent extinction. There are 3500-4000 "noble" families in France, as calculated by the L'Association d'entraide de la noblesse française (ANF) - the semi-official association of the French nobility - compared to 12,000 on the eve of the French Revolution.

The Revolution may have taken away their lands, their titles, and even their heads but they still thrive to this day and play a much more low key role in the French Republic.

They have successfully remained a virtually closed group through intermarriage and a careful network of social relations. However, they are no longer distinguished by fortune and political privilege.

Unable to separate themselves from other social classes through economic or political means, they rely on their social rituals, traditions, and anachronistic way of life to reaffirm their distinct identity. The importance of the family, religion, history, and a deep-rooted attachment to the land, are values that bind them together as a social group.

At the same time, they are obliged to participate in modern economic and public life. Consequently, they have made certain adaptations so as to survive in the modern world and retain their distinctiveness. Most aristocratic children are members of social clubs called "rallyes" which is their primary form of social life. Thus, they may go to public school and still socialise exclusively with children of their own milieu. Another modern adaptation is the creation of the Association of the French Nobility (ANF) among whose functions is to lend tuxedos, party dresses, and wedding dresses to aristocrats who cannot afford their own. There’s no shame in it. It’s fun!

I have been told by my French partner and the French wife of my cousin as well as others that for them that being part of the French aristocracy is nothing more than an attitude more than anything else. In other words, a state of mind.

Aristocrats now have all different fortunes (literal and metaphorical) and they don't talk about it. As my partner dead panned, “That would be bourgeois.”

The old and antiquated values live on because there are ways to preserve them with less money: making sacrifices, traveling little, not having a nice car - but keeping what is essential, like the family property. The family and the family history is still the essential part of everyone's identity. It could be said that the roots of the family hold it up. Unlike many bourgeois families I see who live a very rootless and atomistic life in the rat race, the aristocrats do value the paramount principles of faith and family.

Sure, some noble families have retained wealth and influence but not as much as people might think here in France. They live in the better arrondissements of Paris and even provide captains of industry and finance or they are retired sitting on expensive properties as family heirlooms.

Where I live my two elderly neighbours in my building who both come from aristocratic roots. One is a reactonary (he’s a crusty old retired general) and the other used to run an art gallery and is a socialist (or Champagne socialist if one were being cynical). I’ve gotten to know them very well throughout our shared Covid incarceration as I’ve been doing chores and running errands for both of them and I’ve gotten to know their families as a result. They both remain cheerful and courteous, and it shows in their mild self-deprecation and unassuming social poise. But here they are not flashy and it shows. They buy things to last and don’t give a fig for fashion but insist on their own style. They abhor excess and self promotion.

But equally many others live discreet lives far from the capital, often in old chateaux whose upkeep is a financially crippling burden with each passing generation. These families as I have discovered first hand are more rooted to their local communities and play an invaluable role in safeguarding the cultural heritage of the surrounding village life. They are often the life blood of these rural communities. This is very true for the French wife of my cousin and her family who have been rooted in that community and village life for countless generations. It’s one of the reasons she is thr driving force behind the vineyard to maintain and pass onto the next generation the blessings she’s had along with her siblings.

Over two centuries, the French noblesse has had to perfect an odd social game compared to the aristos of England and Scotland.

France is staunchly republican (and very secularised in the separation of church and state), one of whose founding moments was a revolution in which many of their ancestors were killed horribly. Today the noblesse has no legal existence. There is no monarchy to lend it justification. The very idea of a caste of lords and ladies offends against France's prevailing cultural zeitgeist.

The brutal truth is that for better or worse France - since 1848 or even 1901 depending on your sense of history - belongs to the hypochondriac bourgeoisie. And as such the past time of the bourgeois seems to be consumed by social anxiety by constantly looking over their shoulder to feel secure about their social and economic status relative to others.

No such anxiety exists with the noblesse that I have witnessed. They know who they are almost as well as working people are proud of their blue collar heritage and roots.

I have to admit that the noblesse don’t feel particular glory from their origins but nor do they feel they have anything to be embarrassed about. Many of them do feel an old fashioned duty to pass on their family heritage. As a result most people born to the old families have learned to be discreet and not draw attention to their kind.

For me it’s fascinating to observe and experience and then contrast that with how things are in the United Kingdom or elsewhere for that matter. But what I come away with is this profound bond between them around their deep attachment to their Catholic traditions and their family roots. It’s quite comforting in some ways in a fast moving society that’s unmoored from the old certainties and instead subject to the faddish winds of change.

Thanks for your question.

[faeryqueenwitch]

🌷🍰 Beltane 🌷🍰

🌷 Also known as May Day

🌷 Art By: Jacqueline De Leon on Instagram

________________________________________________________________

🍰 When Is Beltane?

🌷 Northern Hemisphere:

30April - 1 May

It can be celebrated either day or is traditionally celebrated from the night of 30 April until the day of 1 May

🌷 Southern Hemisphere:

31 October - 1 November

________________________________________________________________

🍰 What Is Beltane?

🌷 Beltane is celebrated because we are now at the peak of spring; the sun god has now taken over. For many of us, summer is arriving, or is coming very soon. It’s super joyous, happy, exciting day that honours life. The earth is buzzing and all of the earth’s energies are thriving: fertility, sexuality, passion, energy and new life are at their peak of stimulation at this time. Fertility is the main theme for Beltane. The Triple Goddess in her maiden form and the Horned God are finally united and they are bringing new life on the earth. It’s the time of the year when we need to grant luck to the summer months and the growth that is coming. It is one of the solar festivals, the other being Samhain. Beltane represents birth, while Samhain represents death, which is why Beltane is seen as the most important celebration by some people.

________________________________________________________________

🍰 How To Celebrate:

🌷 Beltane celebrations focus on fertility, abundance and all of the amazing gifts that the earth gives us at this time.

________________________________________________________________

🍰 Activities:

🌷 Create amulets made from rose quartz and give them to loved ones, friends and family. This is a gift that can help with positivity and passion and they can help to lower anxiety too. For specific loved ones this can help with the passion and romance between the two of you and it can also calm nerves!

🌷 Flowers and greenery are a huge part of Beltane.

🌷 Create flower crowns.

🌷 Create daisy chains.

🌷 Wear flowers on your body.

🌷 Make a green man mask from leaves.

🌷  Beltane is a time of love, so if you have a loved one that you would like to make a commitment to, this is an excellent time for marriage, handfasting and promise rituals. You may want to plan your ceremony for Beltane.

🌷 Dance round a maypole; this is a pole that is typically made from wood or metal and that has ribbons tied to a wreath around it. The maypole, is a phallic symbol of the male, the wreath around it and the ribbons coming off it, the vagina. We are celebrating fertility and the marriage of the two of them around this time! You can do a traditional maypole dance around this pole holding the ribbons. Look out for nearby maypole festivities - there are probably more than you think; if not you can create one yourself with your loved ones or your coven.

🌷 Also if you have plans to conceive, now is a great and lucky time!

🌷 Another way to celebrate love is just to go for a walk- you could search for a hawthorn tree, make a wish , have a picnic and collect some wild flowers. Share this experience with a friend or loved one or enjoy a solitary walk.

🌷 Spells to cast at this time are love spells and vitality, protection, romance and purification spells. Casting your circles with oats around this time of year is also a good idea! They are a traditional Beltane grain for good luck.

🌷 Light a Beltane fire- have a Beltane fire ritual with your friends and family, serve food and have an outside bonfire. Fires are traditionally to honor our sun gods, and celebrate the warmth and the sun god taking over the cold.

________________________________________________________________

🍰 Altar Ideas

🌷 Decorate it with seasonal spring flowers.

🌷 Drape it with green cloth and ribbons to represent the green earth as it is now here!

🌷 Add birch and hawthorn branches, burnt in your cauldron.

🌷 Light red, pink and green candles.

🌷 Red and pink represent passion, love and fertility, which suit the theme of Beltane.

________________________________________________________________

🍰 Food And Drink

🌷 Oats in all forms; oat cookies, oatmeal, oat bread

🌷 Dairy, cheeses and milks or dairy-free alternatives

🌷 Also spicy food, to represent the element of fire and the sun

🌷 May Day wine

🌷 Vanilla-flavoured foods

🌷 Fairy Cakes

🌷 Ice Cream

🌷 Sweet breads

🌷 Elderflower and other flowery-flavoured cordials

________________________________________________________________

🍰 Crystals

🌷 Relevant crystals to carry around with you this time of the year and to meditate with, use in divination and spell work, place at your altar and, around Beltane, give as gifts to loved ones and partners, are:

🌷 Rose Quartz

🌷 Emerald

🌷 Sunstone

🌷 Pink Tourmaline

🌷 Beryl

🌷 Pink angel aura quartz

________________________________________________________________

🍰 Herbs And Flowers

🌷 Any herbs and flowers that are blooming now where you live are perfect or Beltane. Try to get the most vibrant and powerful blossoming herbs to work with at this time of the year.

🌷 Lilac

🌷 Thistle

🌷 Flaxseed

🌷 Paprika

🌷 Hawthorn

🌷 Rowan

🌷 Daffodil

🌷 Honeysuckle

________________________________________________________________

🍰 Incense

🌷 Good incense to use during casting circles, burning at your altar around Beltane time and for cleansing and consecrating, as well as for magickal workings, are:

🌷 Peach

🌷 Rose

🌷 Vanilla

🌷 Jasmine

________________________________________________________________

🌷 Source: A MODERN GUIDE TO WITCHCRAFT & MAGICK BY HARMONY NICE

[culturedsociety]

Culture Talks with Carolyn Blackmon

Carolyn, in English meaning Joy and Song of Happiness.

Over the last decade she’s been on a journey of healing and transformation. It’s been Incredible to look back and see how beauty does actually flourish through the ashes. What happened in her life; most definitely was birthed out of struggles, hardships, loss, depression, despair, and hopelessness. Looking back at her experiences and being In complete awe because of it. Her faith and belief in God changed when she realized that “the Creator Is ultimately in control and has the ability to take what Is broken and make It brand new.”

Her life verse Is Isaiah 61:1-3 “The spirit of the sovereign Lord Is upon me because the Lord has appointed me to provide for those who grieve, to bestow on them a crown of beauty Instead of ashes, the oil of gladness Instead of mourning, and a garment of praise Instead a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the lord for the display of his splendor.”

In her early twenties, she was extremely lost. Battling a severe eating disorder, alcoholism, depression, and sadness. She worked and pursued many things to distract herself from reality and to try to fill voids. The more destruction that she caused to her body, mind, and spirit’ the harder life became. One day after a big awakening, she had to make the choice and ask herself the hard question “Carolyn Do you want to live?” She knew at that very moment; she was not living, she was just surviving. 

She made the bold decision to pack her car and move alone from WI to AZ. The land of the sun became a place of healing for her. She found yoga there. She began her vegan plant based eating, and learned to nourish her body again after starving it for so long of vital nutrients it needed to thrive. She found joy through volunteering and serving. She found god again and was re-baptized. But most importantly, found her self again.

Reflecting back to Fall of 2015 when she lost her best friend and mother to Cancer. It was as though her entire world and perspective changed about the value and gift that each day offers. She started to travel more and continued doing mission work that her mother supported the few years before she passed. She began seeking more and wanting more lead to healing the parts of her that were still broken.

In 2017, she traveled to Hawaii for her first yoga teacher training; which led her to step into a more passion and purposed filled path. This became a daily mission and allowed her the ability to circulate her gifts more responsibly. Her hope is to bless lives and help others heal, love, grow, and live their best life. To inspire them to live a life that brings an Abundance of joy, fulfillment, and higher purpose.

Take a deep dive into Carolyn’s mind:

RM: What is your Life’s Philosophy? CB: (Philosophy is an overall vision or attitude toward life and the purpose of it. Human activities are limited by time and death). I believe that we were all created in the image of God and we are each placed on Earth with our own individual and unique purpose. We are here to connect with nature, humans, animals, and to enjoy all of what God has created. We are here to not only soak in the beauty and light and spread it to others but to also use the darkness (whether it be our own struggles, lessons learned, trails, pain, suffering, etc) and use it to Glorify God? What does that mean? To use the wisdom gained, lessons learned, and the power of our testimony and story to shine the light of awareness upon all giving birth to Hope and helping others receive the healing power of Forgiveness.

RM: How has that philosophy evolved over the years? CB: Yes. I tell people that there was a line I drew that separated my old life and my new life. My old life included a long season of walking down the wrong path that ultimately was leading me down into hole. When I fell on my knees and surrendered and “woke” up. It hit me that I wasn’t living the life God planned for me. I was doing many things that I do believe helped me grow and get educated and led me to where I am today. I was drowning in depression, shame, low self esteem, and I didn’t practice self love.

Moving to AZ was the acceleration I needed to begin my rebirth process. I began serving others and finding joy in giving back for it made me realize that others had it harder than myself. I had a lot to be grateful for that I took for granted. Fast forward a few more years and I lost my Beloved Mother to Cancer. It made me realize that there is no time to waste. We are not promised tomorrow. We have a responsibility. Going through that loss changed my perspective on life and our time here on Earth.

I felt urgency. I felt my calling knocking on the door. I had to loose to gain so much more. I feel that my philosophy included being a good person, and working for what you want was so general….but over the years it’s evolved and things have been added and my life’s philosophy has gotten so complex. Creation. Calling. Service. Travel. Community. Collaboration. Healing. Purpose Filled Life

RM: How has your upbringing and circle of influence impacted the way you live and think about life today? CB: I grew up in a loving Christian home. My family members on both sides had good morals in their and the way they lived their lives was simple and consistent. I spent a lot of time in the Church. My parents Marketing business taught me so much as a young adult and I really absorbed a lot of it. My Grandpa Bood was my giver of Wisdom.

My circle of influence has really shifted in the last few years to be non-family members. Those that are where I want to be and who are doing what I am doing in their own way with their own talents. My circle of influence has been students, strangers, people I have met on travels, social media, and those that are in my tribe. It’s interesting to see how my relationships have changed and the type of people I have attracted and also been gravitated towards has changed as I have evolved and transformed and grown. My inner work has changed the way I function in relationships and I am still exploring how to have healthy boundaries as one who tends to be naïve, vulnerable, and who pours her heart and soul into everything.

RM: Do you believe that your line of work infects our society with positivity? How so? CB: When I am doing my work as a yoga instructor I try my best to step into the spaces where I am Leading classes and spread good energy that is uplifting and positive but I also know that people arrive on their mat with all different things that they are struggling with and going through and I never want to diminish that. I try to share themes that are relevant and helpful and inspiring because I really want everyone who interacts with me to leave with something that they can take with them. When they gain and grow and are blessed then so am I.

When I nanny and work with kids they give me an abundance of Joy and so I always try to pour back into the parents and thank them for the opportunity to enter into their home and spend time with them. I’ve worked jobs where felt like at the end of the day I was complaining about what I had to deal with or contend with and then I would wake up in a bad mood and that’s really a horrible cycle. I am thankful grateful that I am now an Independent Contractor and get to choose who I work with so that makes it easier but aside from that we all have a choice to make in regards to our attitude!

RM: How do you stay relevant, unique, and true to who you are as a person? CB: Let go of Comparison. It’s interesting because over the years as I became more at rest and confident in who I was and accepting of who God created me to be it made it easier to accept my path which is a lot different than many as well as accept my timeline which was not what I anticipated. I have started to become more of my own person….my tendencies and quirks have come to the surface unapologetically. Yes I am still Single…Yes I get excited over the Big Bowl Of Greens I eat everyday. My music selection changes drastically with my Mood. I could care less about TV and Material items….and I could go on and on.

The morning ritual I do sets the tone for my day. I tap into a passage or quote and scripture that I need to tell myself it’s like a treasure hunt and I get my coffee fix and take the time I need for myself and that way I’m more grounded and not shaken up or swayed or torn up by whatever may come at me and I feel that has given me the opportunity to respond better and hold my ground and keep healthy boundaries. I use to operate on not enough sleep and being stressed and hurried and then I would cave in to many things that ultimately didn’t serve myself or others well.

RM: Do you believe that the work you do everyday is aligned with your calling and higher purpose? CB: Absolutely and I want more and I am committed to continue to learn and grow and gain a deeper understanding and have more knowledge in the realm of yoga. The more spaces and places I enter and the more people that I connect and collaborate with the more lives I can touch and the more inspired I will be. This last year I started to share my content on a podcast and that was something I never imagined I would do and for a girl that use to be incredibly shy I never thought I would be on the stages I am on. It blows my mind and I am soooo appreciative.

What practices do you implement to stay grounded and divinely connected to self? CB: Guided Meditation. Yoga Nidra. Yoga. Nature. Travel. Writing. Music. Sharing wisdom with the world. Dancing. Music. Balance Healthy Clean Eating. Sharing Feelings and openly communicating with my support system. Spending a lot of time alone, while remaining connected with others.

Connect with Carolyn: Facebook Instagram

Collaboratively Written by: Carolyn Blackmon and Rebecca Muñoz

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