The Recreant

I walk through the witch Deneb’s garden for the first time in a long long time. The flowers tilt toward me and whisper. It makes my heart cold, this magic. The colours are too bright. The smells are too vivid. It’s wrong and false.

A few sproutlings roll out of the underbrush toward me, gabbing. Obviously Deneb has sent them to endear herself to me. As though I could ally with one of the Witches of this island. Still, perhaps a can put them to work. Manual work. This garden is a mess and the magical chittering plants are drowning out the berry shrubs. 

I command them clearly to transplant the mundane bushes from here, this profane space, to the edges of the fence beyond the garden. They quickly hop to work. By the time I’ve gone to the shed and back to get tools to aid them myself (I like getting my hands dirty), they’ve already transplanted the first bush. [<b>Pleasant Work</b> XP Action - 1 1 3 5 6 - Success, somehow!]

Over the next half a day we work hard. My hands are cut and blistered by the end, but it’s worth it. The bushes are beyond the fence and should take to their new ground. If I remember the growth rate in Deneb’s Witchric, the shrubs should bear fruit in the next few months. 

Now... what to do about the sproutlings...

Ugh. Ran across Jasper today. So much for avoiding everyone. At least she’s the best of the bad bunch. Still she’s all full of that sun magic. That kinda shit probably burns out the good in you, slowly but surely.

I’m Kirill Yatskiy. Me and my friends used to have adventures out on this magical island. Found a treasure greater than anything other. The wish-granting power. The only true power. Only one of us could use it, and the rest would have to willingly stand aside. I guess none of us really wanted it that bad, cause we just left.

Then the sun died. I think it was our fault. Not sure how yet.

Anyway, my friend became the new sun. And then we all went separate ways. My friends all found a descent into depravity. I found redemption.

You see, I grew up with a weird family. Then I was born my parents did some sort of ritual, the upshot is that they made me into a channel for spirits to ride. When I turned 8 and was able to handle it they had me channel a godform they wanted to make use of: Typhon.

With Typhon in me, I could unmake things such that they never were. For example, to test the depth of his power my parents had Typhon uncreate letters of the English alphabet. There used to be 33, a much more holy number than the dross 26. Now nobody even remembers there were once more.

With Typhon in me I could craft wondrous things. Through me he once created shoes with which one could walk on air, climb through worlds, and run through time. I don’t know what happened to those. Could be anywhere now.

Whatever. Witnessing the wish-granting power changed me. I saw truth. Real power. Power that wasn’t that puny spirit channeling stuff. Power that could create real change. Power that could do literally anything, powered by a great heart. I spent years banishing spirits from within me. Closing the gates within me that allowed their power to flow.

Magic is evil. It’s fake. Everything we know is so much less real, so much less true, than that wish-granting power. I don’t know if I even want it. I think I don’t. I also want to make sure nobody else gets it. I guess as long as I don’t relinquish my claim to it nobody else can have it. What happens if the others stand aside?

Ugh. Whatever. I hate you all. Especially whichever one of you gave up the sun. Still. Back on the island now. Maybe I can rid it of evil. Rid it of magic. And finally, after all that’s done, rid it of me.