0.2

“You want me to do what?” You ask her, shivering from the sudden surprise. “W-why would I… I-I…” You’re at a loss for words. Her request is sincere, and rather intense. She wishes for freedom from her bindings, and she clearly knows what your powers are, or at least partially so. These bonds you see wrapping around her aren’t just for show; they’re clearly binding her, entrapping the deity within whatever space this is.

She just shushes you again, remaining with a calm, almost pleading tone. “Child, please.” She writhes faintly against the ropes. “I desire freedom, even if it must be as a source of power to another. You may use me as you wish, whether discard me or make me protect you with whatever remains.” She’s genuine; you don’t know how long she’s been trapped or what’s been done to her, nor what her domain is… yet you feel a genuine desire to escape from whatever it is.

You sigh shakily. “I-I…” You stutter, unsure. You want to help her, and that internal desire for power hasn’t gone away. “H-how could I… e-even do that?” You ask her. You’re hoping that she’d know.

She shivers. “That is not… for me to know. Look inside yourself, rather than asking another. I… cannot know how your abilities manifest.” Again, she doesn’t lie.

So, you do as she asks. Focusing on yourself, trying to… meditate as you were taught by the church. De-focusing your senses, and instead focusing on your mind, your soul, and your Regalia.

What follows is… strange. You start to sense almost a lock within yourself, a seal that isn’t part of your own powers, rather completely external to you. With a heavy shudder, you focus in on that feeling of restraint. It shudders, as if it’s alive. It tries to reach out, but you force it to stop, exerting your will. You feel an intense burning heat in your back, as the lock you sense starts to shift.

A moment later, a loud snap fills the air. You gasp and reopen your eyes, looking at yourself. Particles of gold and silver shimmer in your surroundings, surrounded by a wreath of black and red. You instinctively know that wreath to be your power. It’s faint, but there, and consuming the particles into itself, destroying whatever was sealing you. And then, it returns to you, vanishing.

“So… they sealed your Stigmata Regalia?” She asks softly. “Hah, of course they would.” She chuckles after a moment. “The Many would not… allow a threat to their power to go unmanaged.” She struggles against the tightening bindings again, and you can sense the pain she’s feeling. You can sense her desires, not just her strongest emotions. Her desire for escape is stronger than any other, but there’s another that you’re drawn to. A desire to rebel against The Many.

You shudder a little. “D-dammit.” You look up at her. “I’ll… I’ll try my best.” You say, and start meditating again, trying to figure out what she means for you to ‘devour’ her. Knowing she doesn’t simply mean consumption in the physical sense, not that you could even try that, you instead focus on different methods.

That wreath of magic seems to be an option. If you can control it to draw it out, that is. She probably means that. Your power, the Stigmata Regalia, is an unknown force to you. The church of The Many did a good job hiding its usages from you. Hiding any method of controlling it or any magic.

But with your… sense for the truth, you’re able to see past that, to look at even a tiny fragment of the truth of yourself. A power you can control just by willpower, something you have more of than most others, whether by nature or nurture. You reopen your eyes are glare at her, focusing on that power within, to force it out to attack her. To envelop her, and destroy from the outside in.

What follows is… intense. That same power flows out of you, except in a much greater quantity, and much more opaque. It wraps around her form and the ropes, before all at once forming spears that pierce through her from all sides, and cause her to wail from the intense pain she must feel. Yet, you’ve committed, and you’ll see it through.

The wail is quickly followed by silence, and a subtle gurgling, with drops of red blood dripping out from the wrapping of magic, only to be consumed by the same magic. As the magic starts to return to you, there’s nothing left of her who once was. The surroundings start to crack, fading into blackness as whatever force was keeping it stable is gone.

You will it all back to you before things fade away completely, and you’re left standing in your room, feeling another presence in your body, mind, and soul. You focus on it, and find it to be Her. Her presence within you allows you a much greater view into what She was. An ‘Other’, something you only know of due to the same war that broke your family.

You try to communicate. *“Are you… able to talk?”*

*“So… you did it.”* She responds. Her voice is faint, and weak. Her desire to escape is gone, but her desire to rebel is still as strong as ever. A desire that… you can’t lie about not sharing. *“What will you make of me?”* She asks you. Her tone and intentions are subservient; whatever true autonomy she had stripped away, leaving only the mind.

*“I… do not know. Tell me, what would you want me to do? I don’t want you gone.”* You respond, somewhat uncertain.

*“I…”* She starts, but pauses. *“What I’d have you do? I’d… have you fully consume me, and take my power for your own. But… since you want me around, I suppose I’ll have to settle for that. You can make me into a familiar. A creature only you can see, but that can act separately from you.”* Despite her words, she seems grateful that you’re willing to allow her to stick around. She clearly didn’t wish for death, doesn’t desire for that cessation she mentions.

*“Would a raven suffice?”* You ask her, but you already know the answer. Stepping over to the window, you once again exert your will on your power. *I want to make a familiar. A raven.* You think, imagining the creature and trying to will it into existence. On the inner windowsill, black and red magic manifests, quickly coalescing into a raven. It’s got four wings, and eerie red eyes. It looks up at you, then bows.

*“Thank you, my liege.”* She responds. *“My true name is ‘Azkerinuvyl Zainllyr’, but the name I most commonly use is Karasu.”* Telling you her true name willingly is… clearly quite a show of trust, but as her life is completely in your hands, she clearly feels it only fair.

You gently caress the raven’s head. *“I’m Lily Willow.”* You tell her, then go over to your bed. *“I’m… a commoner, so don’t call me ‘liege’, please.”* You sigh a little, laying down, still looking at her.

*“I’m sorry, Lady Willow. Or is that too formal still?”* After a quick nod from you, she relents. *“Then… Lily. What do you wish for me to do?”*

*“I want to know what the church intends to do with me. And… what is the ‘Stigmata Regalia’ really?”*

She spreads her wings, and flies through the window as if it weren’t there, in a subtle flash of magic. *“I will… do my best to explain.”*

_{AN: Yes I’m cutting it off here. Sue me <3}