#forgotten shadow

The chalk broke again.  Fuck.

Stupid, fucking, little pieces of chalk would mess up the flow of mana, she made sure to pick each tiny piece up, using a bit of arcane magic to press them all back together into a solid stick.  

Bending back over, Angie resumed the tireless work of drawing big, stupid magic circles for ritual magic.  Her teeth grit against each other in frustration, hating this work, hating the tedium of arcane magic.  She pushed those thoughts from her head so she could concentrate, it was nearly finished.

She took a step back away from the circle towards the book set off to the side.  Her eyes went from page to circle several dozen times, examining the curvature of the lines and double-checking to assure everything was in proper order.

It was.  Or she was close enough that she didn't notice her own small fuckups. 

She started on the runework.  This was worse, every tiny line mattered, but luckily there was only six runes needed, all for the management and direction of mana flow except for one.  A rune to specify the type of mana affected by the circle.

The runes went much better than the large, arcing lines of the circle itself.  She just needed to place the crystal in it's spot.  She'd spent nearly an hour working on the massive cluster of quartz, inlaying symbols on each facet to prevent the natural escape of mana.  She hefted the giant, stupid hunk of crystal into the circle, gently setting it down on top of the first rune.  It was to be a final destination for a great deal of energy.

Angie had tried other crystals, gemstones, and random objects in her possession but nothing she owned truly had the potential to hold the amount of energy that needed to be held.  Of course she could just try discharging the energy, but that would be a huge waste.

She hated waste.

Finally she was done.  This was probably the most complicated spell that she'd ever worked on.  She took a moment to survey her work and enjoy the pride it brought her.  If it worked the results would dwarf this achievement.  She would achieve something she once believed she was simply incapable of.

She placed the final piece of the ritual in place: herself.  Her legs crossed as she very, very carefully placed herself directly in front of the final rune.  There was no way she was going to risk having to redraw any of this.

She was the origin of the mana that was to be stored, of course.  Her back straightened and hands placed in, or hand, she couldn't let that bother her now.

Deep breaths.  Clear her mind.  Push away all thoughts.  She had to do this manually, relying on the Light's calming effects wouldn't work.

She concentrated on the circle, feeling her mana resonate with the circle.  She gave it the tiniest spark of arcane magic to activate the rune directly in front of her and everything flared to life.  Runes began to hum with raw arcane energy as the lines of the circle lit up with brilliant golden as they served as pathways for her innate Holy Power to travel into the cluster of quartz.

The feeling was indescribably wretched.  Everything about the Holy Light was pleasant.  Calming her worries, dulling her needs, allowing almost an objective view of both her inner and outer conflicts.  It was like a friend's hand on your shoulder.  Reassuring.  All of that was stripped away.

In the years of filling herself with the Light, she has never truly been entirely without it before.  She felt distinctly alone.

Wait.  This was describable.  It was very much like the night after she’d first tried opium.

Her eyes opened, squinting from the absolute brilliance of the imbued quartz, brimming with the Holy Light and illuminating the room like a tiny sun.

She was shaking as she got to her feet, making her way over to her bed.  She tore off the sheets and blankets, dragging them over to toss over the runed circle and snuff out the ridiculous light of the gem cluster.

Again she'd closed her eyes.  Empty of the Light.  Feeling ill from the loss of its love.  She cringed momentarily at the thought.  It was so easy to mock the Light when she was suffused with it but standing here now, so alone and uncontent she realized how deeply she’d depended on it.  A balance that she'd leaned on for so many years, countering all of her urges and desires.  It was an emotional sedative.

More deep breaths.  Push all of the thoughts away.  Clear the mind of everything.

Ignore the hum of the arcane magic imprisoning her power on the other side of the room.

Ignore the glorious song of the Holy Light that sought to invite her back into it's loving embrace.

There was only one thing left.  She could feel it.  

It reached out to her, seeking to fill the emptiness left behind by the loss of the Light.

Angaela embraced the Void as she had the Light, allowing it to suffuse herself entirely.

Nothing could have prepared her for the mistake she had made.

She had dived right into the madness.

Eleven hours felt like an eternity.  Eleven of terrified laughter and hopeless sobbing, huddled in the corner of her room.

Finally, in the evening of the next day she managed to separate her own thoughts from the twisted, incomprehensible whispers.

I realized some time ago that existence has no real purpose, or at least none we will ever be privileged to know.

Today, after a rather rambling beginning, Father Lucas stated exactly this. I admit to surprise -- I've found that it's an opinion even other Forsaken often respond badly to.

Before tonight, my answer to this predicament would have been: "Therefore, make your own purpose." Father Lucas, however, had a different answer: making your own purpose merely hides from the fact of the true chaos and purposelessness of the universe. Existence and reality, he claims, are utterly absurd. Better to simply face this fact and enjoy it.

We are all, ultimately, alone. Father Lucas's sermon tonight has opened my eyes to that fact, at least. We were born alone; we died alone; when we regained sentience, we each were still sentient alone.

Our existence has no purpose; it is precisely this fact which allows us to make our own.

The great shock for me tonight was realizing that deep inside, I had really known this all along. Had I not, I would not have chosen to remain among the sentient undead. I would have chosen death a second time, or become one of the rotbrains.

I find this realization opening doors in my thoughts that I can as yet scarcely see through . . . that I will need time to consider.