#cant breathe properly either but that's unrelated

[ghostfungus]

Welcome to dissociation Sunday

[eldrylva]

“We will start small; you are not truly dead, and therefore...”

“You may speak freely, Eos. We are delicate and fragile.”

The pair shared in a knowing look, but Astrid was smirking. The Ascended in front of her merely smiled, a brief, tight-lipped expression of apology behind her luminous gaze.

“I look at you, Shield-Maiden, and I see your pain. Your suffering, your guilt... I see and feel it all as if it were my own. Your brother...” Eos began, frowning softly as she peered down to the robed and kneeling Northwoman, postured and poised on her shins as she prepared to meditate.

“.. Fjalar.” Astrid said softly. Rage subtly built beneath her veins; rage and guilt. She could have done more, should have done more to save him, but the Kvaldir was too quick and the axehead bore down--

“-- Yes. Fjalar. Close your eyes. Clear your mind as best as you are able. Your first Trial will be a battle against the guilt you cling to.” Eos explained, and Astrid obliged. Nerves pooled in her belly, and something in the back of her head told her to run, to get up and run and go home. But that wasn’t why she was here. She was here with Lord Sunshield and whomever remained to fight with him.

Incense wafted into her nostrils and immediately her body went lax, her mind cleared and fogged. She felt herself be pulled, tugged away gently by her chest. Suddenly she was ethereal, a transparent blue spirit staring at her hunched body. Her chest still moved, she was still breathing, but she was..

Her chest seized uncomfortably, panic bubbling in her belly as she whirled around to see where she was. She was still in Bastion, in fact, the Temple of Purity is where Eos had taken her for the day. She locked eyes with Eos for a moment but the Ascended Watcher said nothing, simply remained poised and waiting. Could she even see her? Of course she could. .. Right?

Astrid exhaled sharply, side-stepping away from her body. Thick globules of blackened substances wept from her mortal form, seeping from her closed eyes and bled from a gaping hole in her chest. That wasn’t real, was it? ... Was it?

“Systir!!” Came chirped from a boy’s mouth just behind her. Astrid froze. Her incorporeal form spun around faster than her brain could register and.. there he was. Just in front of her, robed in black, skin the color of a moonlit dusk and eyes a soft lavender stared up at her with the biggest of grins, wide and familiar. 

The guilt emanating off of the boy stole the breath from her lungs and formed tears in her eyes. It was staggering, deafening, the feeling of this presence and how he was dressed familiar... But he was so real... the feeling was forgotten about, for the moment.

“Systir, you finally came for me! I’ve missed you! I’ve been waiting!” Fjalar giggled, trotting over to her and wrapping his arms tightly around her legs in a hug. He was only a boy... and he was taken so soon... Astrid’s robed form dipped into a crouch, tumultuous storm greys searching as she cupped either side of the boy’s face in disbelief. 

“I know you have...” She whispered hoarsely, breathlessly, as she gazed at the boy in front of her. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, liten ulv..”(little wolf)

Fjalar giggled, throwing his arms around Astrid’s neck, next, and the woman’s arms curled protectively around his smaller frame, holding him close. Fjalar couldn’t be here.. could he? He was supposed to be in the Eternal Hunting Grounds with Fenryr and their ancestors...

Astrid buried her face in the boy’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent of pack, kin, clan.. home... but he did not carry the scent on him. Suddenly the boy’s arms were tightening around her neck, with a strength she didn’t recognize.

“You abandoned me.”

Astrid was caught off guard by the snarl in the boy’s voice, the guilt and grief anchoring her to her knelt spot. She couldn’t breathe, his arms constricting around her neck like a vice.

“F-Fjalar...” Astrid wheezed, tears spilling down her cheeks in droves. She tried to pry herself off of him with a pathetic whine, but the boy’s grip was unrelenting. She was choking to death on grief and guilt, paralyzed.

“You could have saved me, Systir. But you didn’t. You left me to d i e.”

No... no she didn’t... she fought tooth and nail to try and drag him back but Tyrsten’s grip was too tight on her arms, the sound of shouting and fear from her Clan and family shrill and chaotic in her ears. All she could smell was the seaweed, the brine of the deep sea as the raid from Helya’s minions gutted her clan’s small camp before they were to venture further in the woods and settle. 

“You ran away from me and left. Me. To. Die.”

She didn’t. She did all she could. She was just a girl, she hadn’t even gotten her tattoos yet... She was just a girl. 

Astrid felt the air leaving her lungs, the guilt tearing a hole in her chest that would never close. She was struggling, fingers grasping weakly at a darkly robed arm.

“Fight, Shield-Maiden!” She heard Eos shouting from where she stood. Astrid canted her head as much as she could, spotting Eos hovering closely to Astrid’s obsidian-bleeding body. She was perfectly still in the outside world, but here? she was losing. 

I can’t fight this. I can’t do it. I can’t kill him, my brother--

Fjalar’s stone cold hands gripped either side of Astrid’s face, his own twisted into a sinister snarl, fangs of his own that hadn’t grown in yet bloody and black with rage. Violet magic glimmered around his body.

“DIE. YOU LEFT ME TO DIE.” He shouted. He was Forsworn. Mawsworn. This wasn’t her brother. An all new panic set into her bones, and she had two options; fight or die. Fight or die. Fight, or die. Astrid’s eyes burned a bright gold, feral and wary, like a cornered animal, and suddenly the shackles of guilt and grief were shattered and she shouted, tearing herself away from her brother. Astrid’s incorporeal form snapped back into her body, and the woman jolted awake.

Astrid gasped, a sharp sound, her eyes flying open and her sitting position disrupted by her launching backwards, skidding and scooting. Her trembling hands felt at her chest and the rest of her body; she was in one piece, the ichor from the Trial neither was there or stained her gossamer clothing. Her stare rose to Eos, then, who had a hand on her shoulder, the shadows swirling around her left forearm like a warm cloak, staining the woman’s azure skin a deep, near black violet hue, then it was gone.

“That... is how the Aspirants become Forsworn. We will try again when you have rested properly. I will find you; go clear your mind once again. Rest.”

Astrid swallowed tightly, her breath coming back to her in stages. She was slick with sweat, confusion and panic a lump in her throat and she couldn’t respond, all she could do was scramble to her feet with a groan. Fiery red curls stuck to the back of her neck and face and without another word, Astrid staggered and tromped out of the Temple of Purity.

He was so real...

Astrid snuffled, batting her temple with the heel of her palm with a disappointed snarl. She could have done better... how stupid was she that she couldn’t see through the illusion?

Waiting for her was Ida, the Larion from days previous. She sat atop the hill that the path she walked on crested, poised and purposeful in her stare and the way she sat. Noble arrogance and expectance. 

“Come to mock or gloat, have you?” Astrid rumbled to the creature in passing, whose feathered ears fluttered behind her head with a rumble. Ida was.. following her? Why? The large beast tailed ahead of the Shield-Maiden, casting a midnight-colored eye over her shoulder to lead. Water. She needed a shower, she was filthy and smelled of disappointment and disapproval.

Astrid sighed. She was going to be in Bastion for a while, it seemed.