#essential decay

A hand rested on her shoulder, its owner sitting beside her in the other armchair, "You have not failed him yet, child."

--

Atlas held his teacup close, savoring its warmth, "Bella is their most valuable asset. They are so scared of losing her that they turned her against me."

Andes hummed thoughtfully, "So if we could get some leverage over her, we could make a difference."

--

"I left him for dead." She looked up, eyes red, tears streaming down her cheeks, "I built him a grave. I gave up on him."

The priestess leaned closer to her, concern clear on her brow, "But you found him, did you not? So long as he still lives, there is still time." She smiled reassuringly, "Her will prevails yet, our lady must have her eye on both of you."

Bella nodded, more tears rolling down her cheeks, "yeah... yeah. I." She started crying harder, leaning into the touch of the only person who hadn't abandoned her, "I trust in her will."

--

"Bella is... vulnerable. She trusts people too easily." He seemed to age a number of years as he sat there, "But, if you break her trust, she won't listen to a word you say ever again. She." He closed his eyes, as if the words were painful, "She won't listen to me."

--

The priestess held her, brushing her hand through Bella's hair, "We will take care of him. He is valuable to you, so he is valuable to us."

--

Andes shifted on the rock she was seated on, "So you need to have someone she trusts talk sense into her. Is there any way at all you could try again?"

"Ever since..." he stared into the middle distance, then seemed to decide against his original statement. "It doesn't matter. I don't mean anything to her anymore. We need somebody else."

--

Bella spiraled. Everything had been crashing around her for so many weeks she couldn't believe something had gone right. She'd spent so many nights crying since Jasmine got sick she didn't know how else to react to events in her life.

They'd both left her so suddenly. Everything had been normal the night before it all went down. They'd both loved her the night before. So why did she wake up to yelling?

Why could she not get the image of them out of her head?

--

Atlas couldn't escape the memories. They crashed over him, placing him once more into the sort of vision like state he'd found himself prone to.

He had talked to the Lunar Queen that night. She had been weakened, barely able to speak with him. She told him the truth, so he immediately told Bella and Jasmine. Why would he not? They were his everything.

So why was he standing outside the temple an hour later, yelling at Bella? He held Jasmine as she struggled to breathe, her skin so discolored he could barely recognize her. He had been glaring at Bella. He knew better than to be mad at her. She didn't know better. This wasn't her fault. He loved her after all.

He once again mouthed the words he'd said then: "Do you not realize what's killing her? Do you not understand you're being manipulated?"

--

The priestess held her closer still, "Shh shh, you're safe." They smiled, "Our Fair Lady will protect us both."

--

Andes touched his arm gently, "Atlas?"

His mind wandered as he wove his way deeper, sifting through the faces of those who call themselves "friends". A number of nature spirits were among them. He was always jealous of them in some aspect, they could lose a part of themselves and still continue living as if it hadn't happened. He wished he could move on. He wished her face could leave. He saw her everywhere. He couldn't simply regrow himself in her absence, she had been his everything.

"Pretty night, isn't it?" She seemed to say from behind. He knew not to look, he knew she was just a hallucination, "Didn't expect to run into a mage this close to the Sanctuary."

Cori froze. He wasn't hallucinating. He didn't dare turn around, "What do you want? Why are you doing this?"

"Oh I am not here to threaten you, I am simply curious what brings a mage like yourself so far." This person had the same tone of playful curiosity in her words, as if nothing had weight and was just another discovery to be had.

"Stay curious then." He attempted to continue walking, but found one of his ankles tethered.

Cori felt his control slip. It was too familiar. Far too familiar. Everything reminded him of Bella. He in that closet again. He was screaming for her he was—

She looked older this time. Still the same height, the same rich black skin, the same lopsided, dimpled smile. Even the vines she seemed to use as armor on her arm were familiar.

They laughed, her laugh, "Oh you're not getting away so—" she froze, eyes scanning his face as if she recognized something.

Cori flinched as she pulled off his hat with shocking gentleness. She used her vine covered arm normally, with the vines wrapping around whatever she held. Her intact hand met his chin, moving his face with little issue. Why would he fight? He couldn't bring himself to be agressive to someone who looked so much like Bella.

"Cor? Corian? Is- is that you?" All of the vines around her seemed to grow three times the size.

Cori felt so small. He felt like a child again, watching his sister with silent amazement, "Bella?"

She let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, basically collapsing into his chest. He could feel her shaking, the way each breath seemed to tear through her, "I thought I lost you—"

"Is it really you? Bella?" He felt every wall he had built crumble, no longer needed. Cori had Bella. He wasn't alone. He- when had he fallen to the ground?

"Cor? Cori!" She tried to keep him upright as the mushrooms expanded around him, "Cori stop you're hurting yourself!"

Everything faded. He must be in some form of shock, Cori realized distantly. It wasn't until the tree crashed to the ground did he come back to himself.

Bella stood a few meters away, terror lacing her expression. What was she looking at?

He looked down to find a number of mushrooms growing from his palms, their roots shallow beneath his skin, blending in with his veins.

Eliana had to hope there was a chance of rescue. If she gave up, she would drive herself insane. So she kept watching the door, waiting for a friendly face. Would she recognize a friendly face? Sequoia was the only one she'd known, and she couldn't enter the Grove. Would anybody even know she was in here? Would they know to look for her?

No.

No she couldn't think like this.

Someone had to be looking for her. The council wouldn't abandon her mother so easily, right? They'd send the strongest mages.

Eliana blinked awake, not realizing she nodded off. She needed something to do. She looked around, noticing the textbooks she'd left within arms reach.

The tomes were dusty but not unused. She held them gently, almost feeling empathy for the old things. They, too, were discarded by these people. Cast to the side and ignored in a basement.

"The Records of the Lunar Cycle: Volume 2" she read aloud. She opened it up, expecting star charts and calenders, only to find a block of hand written text on a loose scrap of paper:

["I know there must be something unusual going on here. I feel worse by the day. This isn't just normal plant death, something else is happening here."]

Farther down, in increasingly worse handwriting, partially blocked by a splattering of what appeared to be chlorophyll stained tears, Eliana read more.

["This illness is going to take me soon. I'll tell Bella and Atlas tomorrow. But they don't need to know tonight. I want to see them happy one more time."]

She held the paper gingerly, realizing she was reading someone's final written words. It was haunting, as if a ghost was breathing down her neck. How long ago had they died? There was no way of knowing. It could've been decades, it could've been yesterday.

She flipped through the pages, finding more slips of the same paper, roughly torn to size. This person had been writing notes.

["...they don't have the same magical connection anymore. They aren't the priestess..."] ["...how do I tell Bella?"]

["Corruption. So much corruption."]

Eliana flipped through the pages, more and more notes falling into her lap. Each was as terrifying as the last. The words of someone who was correct too late. On the last page, scrawled across the inside of the book, she found a different set of handwriting, far older and much more difficult to read.

["Peace will follow the child of decay,

For she shall bring them into light,

Even if in the dark she must stay.

The moon's chosen knight,

The corruption source he must uproot,

Or the illness will win the fight."]

It made no sense, but the weight of these words hung in the air.

"Who are you? What did they do to you..."

Eliana searched through the pages again but found nothing new. She needed to know what happened to this person. Surely they must have been one of the Moon's followers. So then why did they speak of illness at such a significant temple? How did this all happen?

Eliana was so absorbed in searching for more papers, she hadn't realized someone had walked up to the door of the cell. She flinched when he caught her eye, unprepared for watchful eyes.

He was unfamiliar to her, though the general shape of his face felt familiar. She shrunk into the corner, carefully closing the tome and placing it aside. If they didn't know about her interest in it, they may not destroy it.

"Are you..." he looked around, "Are you locked in here?"

Eliana suddenly felt two steps behind. Who was this person and how did they not know of her prisoner situation?

He leaned heavily on the door frame, paling slightly, "Who...? Why?"

Eliana stood, stepping towards the door cautiously. No longer curled up, the rashes on her arm were in clear view, displaying her poisoning to all those unfortunate enough to see her in this state.

His eyes widened, "Are you okay? Do you need help?"

"Yes."

"What's your name?"

"Eliana. Yours?"

Sequoia was pacing, constantly looking out her windows, likely looking for possible attackers. None came, of course, no point in attacking the nature spirit you're attempting to hold hostage.

Andes sat beside him, silently fidgeting with a woven cowboy hat, its rim coated in air plants. It obviously wasn't her's, it wouldn't have fit between her antlers.

"Is that your companion's?"

"It was at the border along with his poncho," she gestured at a chair with a pure moss poncho, a small spot on the rim covered in flowers, "I'm not sure why they left them behind."

He held out a hand, admiring the handiwork as the hat was passed to him, "Bella knows better than to bring the sun's plants into the sanctuary. They would die too quickly in there."

"What was Bella to you? You seem to know a lot about her." Andes asked the question as if it was as simple as talking about the weather. She was just... curious.

Atlas twisted the two wooden bands on his ring finger, willing himself to not slip back into the memories of his last moments with both of his partners.

Andes talked in a smaller voice now, "Sorry. Bad question."

"You're fine. I. I should probably explain."

At this, Sequoia stopped pacing and faced him. She didn't say "finally" but he could feel it. She was desprate to hear news about the satyr girl.

Andes stood, walking to the stove behind him and scooping up two mugs of boiling water. She set one in front of him, which he took gratefully. Atlas carefully placed his small, barely functional infuser into the mug, staring into the depths of the liquid.

"I am the current priest of the Lunar Queen."

Sequoia gasped almost inaudibly, unable to find her words before he spoke again.

"What you call the Grove is sacred ground that has been corrupted and taken out of Her control. The priestess before me has been abusing her position and corrupting the power of the Lunar Queen for... I don't know how many years."

He took a deep breath, nails digging into his mug, "she— Our Fair Lady— reached me in a dream and explained the truth." He didn't elaborate, not willing to speak the prophecy aloud just yet, "I was declared as her priest. So, my predecessor, having lost her position, is attempting to kill me with the power she's held onto."

"What does this have to do with Eliana?"

"The satyr girl is being held hostage to try and force you to give up more territory. They're threatening the North Sun by threatening you."

He sipped his tea, the warmth spreading through his body. It brought him some clarity through the incessant aching of his head, but the clarity only made the visions worse. He felt himself slip, knowing he couldn't break himself from this one.

--

He was standing in a small clearing in the woods, a full moon silhouetting him. A gravemarker stood at its center, shaped as a trellis. Below it was the last living sprout of Jasmine, never to be inhabited by the spirit again.

"Why here?" He found himself asking.

"You know I do not control the location, my priest. You brought yourself here." The Moon's tone was gentle, understanding, and full of an ancient grief he was starting to understand.

He sat beside Jasmine's grave, too weak to stand for so long, "I'm trying my best."

The Moon sat beside him, the jasmine vines growing in her presence, "You say this as if it weren't reason I chose you."

"I failed you. She. She hates me and Jasmine is—"

"You have not failed me. Bella can still be saved, so long as you save her brother first."

Atlas looked up at this, "He's dead."

The Moon shook her head, "Corian still lives, even just barely."

"How...? How do I?"

"Patience, my priest. If I speak now, it will upset the fragile balance we have found."

--

Andes wasn't sure why she continued to approach. It was pointless. She should have gone back to the council the day Cori left, leaving the job in more capable hands. This was above her rank. And yet, she kept walking along the border, making small rock towers at each point she accidentally walked closer in her attempt to circle the area.

She couldn't keep sitting at home, watching Himmea waste away. She needed to be doing something, even just as a distraction. If she wasn't up and moving, she felt as though the world was crumbling. So she kept walking, looking for anybody, even just for the purpose of knowing there was someone there.

She turned to glance in its general direction, wondering distantly if someone on the inside was looking back at her. She was surely being watched. If they took Cori, they would come for her in time. It wouldn't be the first time council members were taken hostage.

A hand closed around her collar, yanking her back. Andes caught a glimpse of the other person; a satyr, thin and clearly ill in some capacity.

She landed hard on the bed of fallen leaves, glaring up at him, "Hey! What was that for?"

The satyr gave her a warning glance, squinting into the forest, clearly looking for something... or someone. He sighed, turning to her with tired eyes, "Do you understand what you're doing? Circling this place?"

Andes gave him an incredulous look, not sure exactly how she'd ended up in this situation. They were so deep in the woods, no path in sight. How had the guy found her? Who was he?

He glanced towards the Grove once more before turning fully to her, "Why are you doing this? Do you want them tracking you? You've made a rock trail leading to your location."

She hesitated. Clearly he knew what this place was. How? Why?

He rolled his eyes and switched into a dialect of the satyr's language, "What are you doing? Are you a dumbass?"

She responded in common, standing up slowly "Who are you?"

Once more, he looked back at the Grove, "Doesn't matter. You need to leave. It's not safe here for you."

"Slow down. How did you get here?"

He gestured in the direction she'd come from, "You left a pebble trail. It was trivial. You've made yourself very obvious. I'm surprised Bella hasn't killed you yet."

This was all too much at once. "Who?"

There was a distant look in his eyes. This Bella person must mean something to him. "She- she helped make the sanctuary. She's usually very protective of the sacred grounds." He gestured vaugly towards the Grove.

Something wasn't adding up here. He knew one of the people on the inside. He also called it the 'sanctuary'.

"How do you...?"

"Not here."

"Then let's move away from 'here' so you can give me a straight answer."

The satyr walked past her, worldlessly moving away from the Grove. With each passing moment, he seemed to become weaker, as if something were sapping his energy.

Andes followed, desprate for any sort of information.

Once they were well out of range, he turned back to her, "Who do you work for?"

She met his gaze, expression far more annoyed than before, "North Sun."

This struck him heavily. The color drained from his face, making the dark circles beneath his eyes all the more visible, "Do you have an assignment partner?"

"I did. A mage named Cori. He's in there. I think they took him hostage."

The satyr looked up, "for fuck's sake." He took a deep breath before looking back to her, "Count yourself lucky that I found you first."

"Who are you exactly?"