Transphobia
Torture
Graphic Death
Actual Swear Words Which Will Probably Be Censored By NGA

In her mind, all the world was darkness. For the longest time, that was all it had been. She was small, and she did not remember much, but she remembered what the sisters had told her, in the dark, because they never stopped speaking. She did not know how they saw, but they did, and there was ever a hand to hold hers and guide her, and voices to teach her. She did not remember much, but she remembered food, soft things, and lessons.

So many lessons.

And then the small girl was told she was ready, though she did not know what that meant. The hands that led her were tighter now, and the voices that spoke, harsher. The darkness, which had for so long been warm, grew cold and clammy around her. She felt as though she was walking downwards, and she wondered if this was what dying felt like. The sisters spoke often of dying.

Instead of death, however, she found the first light she could remember, and it nearly blinded her.



Elizabeth placed a hand surreptitiously on the dagger in her boot as the sound of hoofbeats reached her ears over the crackling fire. A single horse, by the sound of it, and likely not a danger… But it was dark, and she was a woman, traveling alone. Anyone could be a danger. The path through the canyon was wide, though the large rocks and craggy fissures offered enough hiding places that she could duck away at the first sign of trouble. This late in the summer, most of the merchants preferred the high road, and she was counting on the banditry to have followed them. Hopefully, her journey to the next town over would remain uneventful.

She kept her hand on her boot.

The horse rounded the corner, bringing its rider into view. It was a woman, alone… in a dress, of all things. Side-saddle. Not exactly practical, but some people learned the hard way. Notably, the dress was white, and simple. The woman was wearing a white cloak over her shoulders, though it did little to hide her face. Elizabeth was mildly surprised that the horse was not white as well. She half expected the woman to ride by her tiny camp, but she had no such luck. The moon was out, and even with the glare of the flames between them, Elizabeth knew the woman was watching her as she approached.

“Good evening, stranger.” She called lightly from across the fire as her horse trotted up. “I have forgotten my tinderbox - your fire will be a godsend. May I share it with you?” Her voice was small and polite, and though the fire cast shadows on her face, Elizabeth could make out a plaintive expression.

“I see no problem with that.” Elizabeth admitted, and removed her hand from her boot at last. At worst, the woman would be an annoyance, and no more danger than that. Perhaps she would even be pleasant company… But, such thoughts were idle and hardly worth pursuing.

“Thank you kindly.” The woman dismounted expertly. At least she did not trip over all that cloth. The horse remained placid as the woman busied herself with her saddlebags. There was something strange about how the firelight flickered around her… No, that was just Elizabeth’s imagination getting the best of her. Admittedly, the woman was pretty, even if she did nothing to accentuate that fact. As she lowered the hood from her head, Elizabeth blinked twice, but said nothing. Her hair was gray - No, white. She seemed far too young for it. Maybe it was dyed.

Elizabeth scratched her head unconsciously. She knew what it felt like to want to look different.

Eventually, the woman produced a wool blanket and what appeared to be a pillow, and smoothed them both out on the ground on the other side of the fire. The night was not especially cold by any means, but a light in the darkness and the promise of cooked food was no doubt what had brought her here.

“Terribly rude of me, I forgot to introduce myself.” The woman said conversationally as she sat down. “I am called Verity. What is your name?” Elizabeth felt something twist in her gut, but she forced itself to unknot and set her jaw.

“Elizabeth.” She replied stiffly, but the woman just smiled.

“Pleased to meet you, Elizabeth. Thank you, again.” She held her hands out to the fire, the smoke dancing between them, but oddly, never touching her flesh. “The sun set four hours ago, I was sure I’d have to retire in the darkness. I’m happy to have met you.” That was… oddly touching. Elizabeth cleared her throat, and opted to change the subject.

“So, what brings you through Kingsman’s Canyon? I’m headed to Idunnasburg myself.”

“Oh, I’m a travelling healer. I heard there was an outbreak of Blue Fever near the Roar. I’m hoping to help.”

“That’s kind of you.” Elizabeth commented, surprised. “Blue Fever is mighty contagious.” Which was true. It was also mighty lethal to children and the elderly, and was so called because the coughing fits that accompanied the fever were so violent they often left its victims blue in the face. Sometimes, they never caught their breath at all.

“It’s simply what I do.” The woman replied humbly. Well, that was respectable, at least. Elizabeth wondered, though - a lone woman, on the road all the time. Granted, she was dressed plainly, but she was obviously no commoner. The dress and the well-groomed horse would make her a target for the banditry that the Idunnasburg guard either could not find or were in cahoots with.

“You travel alone?” Elizabeth asked. Verity folded her hands in her lap and gave her a curious look.

“How do you mean?”

“There’s no one else with you, right? Is that safe?”

“Oh…” Verity smiled softly, and again, there was something strange about the way the firelight reflected off of her… “No, I’m never alone.”

Before Elizabeth could ask what that meant, there was a shrill, terrible scream.



All the world was pain. That was all it would ever be. They burned him and bruised him and beat him for so long that he could not remember the last time he had begged them to know why. Always, after, he was too tired to move and barely coherent enough to realize death would be better. Barely. The voices that snarled at him were harsh, and the hands that beat him, rough. There was darkness, and there was fire, and there was pain.

Pain, until he forgot everything else.

One day he was dragged from wherever he was being held - that had long since stopped being a concern of his - and thrown into a… different room. He was so small, and the voices and hurtful hands were so large, there was nothing he could do. All he knew from the screams was that he was not the only one screaming. But today, there was not screaming. There was a single candle - he shied away from the flame - a cold room, and her.

One of his eyes was swollen shut and he could barely see out of the other, but it was a little girl, in a white dress. People were speaking to her, but they were just out of the small circle of light that illuminated them both. The voices that spoke were… Nothing like those that scorned him. That called him worthless. Evil.

The girl stared wide-eyed at him, and he looked away.

He would never forget what the voices said next.

“This is your sin.” The soft voices murmured.

“This is your salvation.” His tormentor’s rasped.

“Remember what you’ve been taught.” They both said, and he could no longer hear the difference. Taught? He had been taught nothing but to shy from fire and flinch at the crack of a whip. There was… There…

He felt a small, cool hand on his shoulder, and flinched.

“I’ll make you better.” She whispered, like the sound of moonlight. The moon… How did he know the moon?

Then, something came from the cool hand, and flowed throughout his body. It was relief. He shuddered, and collapsed further into himself as the pain washed away, for the first time since he could remember, he was whole, he was unhurt… He looked up at the little girl, with white hair and pale skin, and he knew he was staring at an angel.

He wept.

“Thank you.”



Elizabeth was not proud of the things she shouted in response to the scream, but she was on her feet immediately, pulling the knife from her boot and peering into the darkness. All she saw were shadows and rocks - that was all she had seen for days. The scream had sounded human, terrified, and in pain. Something was out there.

She glanced at Verity, who was frowning in the same direction that she herself was looking.

“I think we should stay close to the fire.” She spoke softly, and Elizabeth was forced to agree. Her heart was still hammering in her chest from the shock of the noise. She withdrew to the far side of the flames, and sat beside Verity. For her part, the woman seemed only mildly annoyed by the interruption. Her hands were still folded neatly in her lap, and though he brow was furrowed and her lips turned down, it was a look more of displeasure than concern.

Elizabeth was beginning to think that the woman’s arrival was more than a coincidence.

“...Do you know what that was?” She asked slowly, and Verity glanced at her.

“It sounded like someone screaming.” She stated. “I am hesitant to leave the light of the fire, though my services are surely necessary.”

“Would the fire help? Shouldn’t we run?” That seemed like a good idea - put enough distance between themselves and the scream as possible. Whatever was out there, whoever it had attacked… they sounded close. But Elizabeth had heard nothing before the scream… Who - what - had approached so quietly?

“It would not.” Verity explained cryptically, and Elizabeth turned to stare at her, unnerved.

“...What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked, and then, she heard sobbing, and the sound of footsteps. Fear settled into the pit of her stomach as she got slowly to her feet once more. Verity did not answer the question. Something stumbled out from behind the rocks.

“Help me… Please…”



“If you are to be the light, you are never to lie.” The sister told her. “Never to steal, never to harm another, never to covet or become swollen with pride. You are gentility, truth, innocence… perfection. You are to be an example of righteousness. If you are, your presence will be a balm to the afflicted and a bane to the wicked.”

Another lesson, this time, however, with other young women. Years had passed since she had first seen the light, and though her eyes were closed and she listened with a bowed head, the words transfixed her.

“If we are the bane of the wicked, will they not seek to do us harm?” A voice asked - one of the other young women.

“Every light casts a shadow.” The sister explained gravely. They said this often - but they never explained what it meant. In time, they also said often. In time, they would learn. And yes, in time, she learned many things. How to use her memories of purity and light to heal, how to mend flesh and ward away madness. How to banish darkness, and shine a light in the dismal places of existence. She learned, and she loved it.

She always remembered the boy, and his tears. She wanted to help someone like she had helped him. She wanted to do that forever.

In time, she discovered she would. In time, she learned what the sisters meant.

She did not like it.



“Allen?” Elizabeth gasped as the figure stumbled close enough to be seen by firelight. “What happened to you?” She rushed to his side as he formed a sobbing reply.

“Evan? Oh gods, is that you? There- There-” Elizabeth winced at the name, but came to his aid regardless. His face was covered in blood, and- Oh gods, his eyes… He was reaching forward, but it was plain that he could not see.

“Allen, what- No, no come here.” She reached for his hands, slick with blood, and pulled him towards her before leading him to the fire. “There’s a healer here, Allen, she can help you.” Gods, he was shaking uncontrollably, and still sobbing. Elizabeth glanced at Verity, who was watching them both with an expression of pity.

“Lay him down.” Verity instructed, standing up for the first time since she had arrived. “Place his head on your lap, if you please.” Allen seemed to be trying to speak once more, but it was nothing more than gibberish and he was compliant as Elizabeth did as she was instructed. She knelt with her back to the fire and adjusted Allen so that he was facing upward. She tried not to look at his face - everything around his eyes was in tatters-

Verity hands hovered over where his eyes had been, and there was a small flash of light.

“His eyes are gone.” Verity explained. “They were removed by… By something evil. I cannot…” She shook her head, mouth tight. “I cannot restore them. I can only close the wounds.”

“Something evil…?” Elizabeth asked, shocked. What… What was out there?

“Allen, if you can hear me - you will never see again if I close your wounds. Will you allow it?”

Allen was still mostly incoherent, but he said something that might have been yes. Verity looked to Elizabeth regardless. Elizabeth nodded tersely. Verity closed her eyes, and there was a longer, more sustained flash of light. Allen shuddered, then relaxed. Elizabeth placed her hand over his heart - it was still beating quickly, and his face was too covered in blood… But he had stopped sobbing. That was a good sign.

Verity had already stood up and was rummaging through her things. Surprisingly, to Elizabeth, her horse seemed completely unfazed by what was going on around it. In fact, it may have been sleeping. Verity returned quickly with a roll of bandages and a few small cloths. She dabbed the blood from Allen’s face, and wrapped bandages around his eyes.

“You know this man?” Verity asked as she worked, and Elizabeth sighed.

“He’s my brother.” She explained. “Though I don’t know what he’s doing out here.” If Allen was listening, he remained silent. His breathing was steady.

“Perhaps you should ask him.” Verity prompted as she tied the bandage neatly. “And find out what happened to him in the meantime. It is possible he is still in danger.” Elizabeth swallowed, and looked down at her brother.

“...Allen can you hear me? Are you still in pain?”

“No, I…” Allen’s mouth worked for a few moments before he licked his lips. “No.”

“What happened to you? Why are you here?” That… must have been his scream, then. It sounded familiar because she had heard its like before. Allen was not known for his mild temper. Admittedly, Elizabeth was not fond of her brother for various reasons, but… Well, she could not very well turn him away now, could she?

“I was coming after you.” He admitted with a frown. Elizabeth placed a hand gently on his shoulder as he lay, but he flinched away from it. He sat up swiftly after that, hunching his shoulders. “We… were attacked. I don’t know by what. I didn’t see it. I don’t… I don’t know…” He placed his head in his hands and shook it slowly.

“Who were you traveling with?” Allen’s head snapped up at the question.

“What?”

“Who-”

“I heard you!” He rubbed at his temples. “Just- some protection. The roads are dangerous through the canyon, you know that!” Elizabeth held up her hands, though now that Allen was blind - and his back was turned - she realized the gesture was doubly futile and dropped it.

“Alright, alright.” She murmured. “I didn’t hear anyone else scream, so maybe… whoever it is… is fine, alright?” But he was shaking his head again.

“No, no… it… it got to them first. Gods… The last thing I saw… Oh, gods…” And he began weeping once more.

“Not many things could have killed with such efficiency and silence.” Verity noted, and her lyrical voice startled Elizabeth. The woman was sitting on the opposite side of the fire once more. “If these people were trained to protect Allen, I wonder why they made no other sounds.” Verity’s hood was up once more, and she was gazing placidly at Elizabeth’s brother. The light… The firelight… Allen sniffed and looked in the woman’s general direction.

“Who is that? The healing woman?” He sniffed again. “I appreciate the help, I really do, but I don’t think you’d know the first thing about killing.” Allen wiped his nose. “This is a family matter, too, so mind your own.” Elizabeth glared at her brother for his coarse words, before schooling her expression, and then realizing that he would not be able to get angry with her for making it… ever again. Gods, but he was making her infuriatingly depressed right now. She had often wished a variety of misfortunes on the stubborn ass, but this…

No, she had never wanted this.

Verity did not respond to Allen, nor did she seemed bothered by his words. She just turned her attention to the fire.

“Allen, try to be more kind.” Elizabeth implored. “It’s likely she saved your life.”

“You’re just lucky that- that thing didn’t get to you first!” Allen snapped. “Dangerous through the canyon, and mom told me to bring you home! Gods, what if it’s still out there? What are we going to do?” That… was a very good question. Elizabeth glanced at the flames.

“We should stay by the fire. We haven’t seen it yet. Maybe the creature is afraid of the light?” She suggested, and Allen drew his knees up to his chest.

“I hope a little fire can stop it.” He muttered. “All I saw was shadows and then they all started falling over… Wish I’d never come chasing after you. Nothing but trouble.” Elizabeth clenched her teeth at that. Oh, this was her fault too?

“You didn’t have to come after me! I did nothing but leave!” Elizabeth exclaimed, and he turned to stare angrily three feet to her left.

“Mother wanted you home! She said I had to!” He shouted back, and Elizabeth scoffed.

“Mother wouldn’t flip a coin into a well for me, let alone demand I come home! She was glad to see me gone - she all but drove me to it!”

“You broke her heart!”

“She tried to break me!”

“You were already broken!” Allen roared, getting to his feet. Elizabeth flinched unconsciously, though Allen could not see her. “If you hadn’t been so damned stubborn, Evan, everything would have been fine! You just had to marry Beatrice, but you were too busy playing dress-up with Mother's underthings-”

“You shut up right now!” Elizabeth screamed, mortified. How dare he insinuate- How dare he! “The only thing stopping me from laying you flat on your ass right now is the fact that you’re hurt. Don’t. Test. Me.” As usual, however, Allen did not get the hint. He was in a towering rage now, and Elizabeth usually knew better than to argue with him like this. But now, he could not find her to hit her.

“This would have never happened if you hadn’t been so insistent on being a pervert!” Allen took a step in the wrong direction, so Elizabeth held her ground. “We had everything you could ever want, but you threw it all away because you think you’re a woman? You’re my brother, Evan, not some lowbrow tramp! What do you even know about living on your own! If father were alive-”

“Don’t you bring father into this!” Rational thought flew from her mind, there was only her anger. She did not even think about Verity, or the creature in the darkness, or anything but the maddening rage her brother - injured, and still belligerent! - had forced her into. “He’s the only one who ever loved me! I refuse to believe what happened was an accident, you know it as well as I!”

“He condoned you!” Allen screamed. “He said you were natural and- The Gods would have struck him down if I hadn’t, and I swear I’ll strike you down too!”

Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat.



After the angel saved him, he was dragged away once more. Instead of hitting him with the whip, they gave him one. Taught him how to use it. Not just to hurt people, but to swing from things, to trip others up. They taught him how to use knives of various sizes. A thing metal string they called a garrote. How to throw tiny, almost unseeable needles. They taught him how to move quietly, on the balls of his feet, and how to make it look like he was not a person in the darkness.

They showed him where to stab someone to make them stop breathing, and how to kill someone so that they would not bleed very much.

They also showed him how to cause the most pain. Usually, this was demonstrated on himself.

They told him he was only good for this. For hiding. For killing. That pain was part of his existence as surely as death was. He was wrong. He was a sinner. He was aberrant. There were other boys there too, being trained like he was. Many of them killed themselves. They used the bodies to show how inefficient the death had been. Waste no movements, no time, no sound. If the victim knows they are about to die, you’ve already failed.

There was no way to tell how much time passed, but he grew lithe and strong. Quick, and silent. Once, he asked why they were teaching him this. That had cost him broken three ribs and four long cuts on his forearm, but they had answered.

“Every light casts a shadow.”

They did not explain what that meant, but eventually, he found out.

He met his angel again.



“You killed our father.” Elizabeth murmured disbelievingly as Allen stumbled around, trying to catch her. As he missed again, he laughed hollowly.

“Yes, and if I weren’t so sure whatever got to me is going to get to you too, I’d be trying harder to finish what I started.” Allen snarled. “Mother always told me you were wrong - that you were aberrant. She couldn’t stand that father agreed with you, and neither could I! You- You did all this!” Allen had lost his mind. Never, never ever, even when she was packing her things to flee from home, had Elizabeth thought this could be the case. Her mother was a heartless, greedy shrew, surely - but Allen… She had never seen such hatred on his face, and the blood only accentuated it. He had come all this way to kill her…

“You’re insane.”

“I’m-” But his voice cut out, and Elizabeth froze in terror. Something had materialized behind her brother, at the edge of the firelight. There was… darkness, but it coalesced into a basic shape. That of a man, perhaps, in a heavy cloak. Briefly, Elizabeth imagined there was a glint in the darkness, like the shining of an eye. But it vanished. Allen’s hands went to his throat, and she could seem that something invisibly thin was pulled taut against it.

A voice floated from the darkness, rough and without inflection.

“Shall I kill it?”

Before Elizabeth could respond, Allen’s throat exploded into a shower of blood, and the creature vanished. Allen fell to his knees as the life drained from his face. He had nothing left to say, and no way left to say it. Elizabeth watched him die, horrified.

She did not approach the body. She did not need to. Instead, she stared at it. She was not sure for how long, but eventually, she felt a hand on her shoulder and nearly screamed before she realized it was Verity.

“You should sit down, you’re in shock.” She murmured, and Elizabeth did not have the presence of mind to argue. She let Verity lead her towards the fire, which was still going strong, and wrap her in a blanket. Verity sat across from her once more, and busied herself preparing some tea - as though nothing had happened. As though someone had not just died. Elizabeth stared at her, and then saw something. The firelight. It was flickering, and casting Verity’s long shadow into the night behind her. It danced and moved as the flames did.

It had not been there before. There had been no shadow until now.

Fear, cold and tepid, settled into her bones.

“Y-you…” She muttered, not even certain what she was going to accuse her of. Of killing her brother? Of lying to her? Had she even done any of those things?

“I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.” Verity murmured sympathetically as she prepared a cup of tea. “Death is never easy to look in the face, and hatred is never simple to run from. I can do nothing for Allen now.”

“You knew.” Elizabeth managed to say, finally. “That’s why you’re here.”

Verity said nothing, and was silent until the tea was prepared.

“Here. This will calm your nerves.” Verity offered, and blankly, Elizabeth accepted.

“...You didn’t have a shadow.” Elizabeth commented as she sipped the tea. It was plain, but as Verity had said, it was… soothing. Very… Soothing. She took another draught.

“Every light casts a shadow.” Verity told her softly, and Elizabeth felt as though she was hearing it through a thick blanket. The tea… She dropped it, but the damage was done, and her scattered mind eased into the darkness.



They brought the same boy, to the same room, the day she was to become a sister.

He had changed, of course, but she was surprised to see him. Had they not let him go after he had been healed? Where had they kept him? She saw no men around the cloister, and rarely gave that thought - had they fetched him? The years, it seemed, had not been kind. He was covered in scars, and his frame was muscular, but thin. He stared at her with a sort of open-mouthed awe that unnerved her coming from his sunken eyes.

“Every light…” A sister murmured.

“...casts a shadow.” Voices from across the room replied. Her eyes snapped up, but she could not see who had spoken in the dim light, and she would not turn to question the sisters. She had come too far to turn back now. She had to have faith. She knew what to do.

“You are a poor and wretched creature.” She recited from memory. “Unfit to live.” The words tasted bitter on her tongue as she saw the boy flinch - did she really believe this? “Fit, however, to serve. Serve me, then. As a hand upon the places I cannot touch. As an eye upon the things I cannot see. As an ear upon the things I cannot hear. I am salvation. I am light.”

The boy, trembling, look down, and knelt upon the floor. She watched him, and wondered what he was doing, as he produced a knife that she had not seen. The sisters had taught her many things, many different spells for healing many different injuries - but she could not stop the boy from doing the one thing she could not heal.

“I will be your shadow.” He murmured without looking up. “Forever.”

And he jammed the dagger directly into his heart.

She started slightly, but hesitation was not an option - she remembered what she had been taught, what she had been told. She reached for the boy and gathered him up, tears springing unbidden to her eyes - why, oh, why -

“I will be your light.” She murmured, pulling the dagger from his chest. “Forever.”

She closed her eyes, and forced as much of her will into the spell as she could manage.

She felt something inside of her unlock, and pour forth. She felt his mind, his memories, touch hers. She saw, she knew - everything - that had been done to him. That they had done to him, the things he had seen, the things he had done. She knew, she knew, she knew-

The boy melted away from her arms, turning into darkness, and seeped around her, behind her, and into her shadow.

She could feel him, as part of her, she knew she could call, that she could speak-

That he was dead. That she had not saved him, but enslaved him.

The cold realization caused the world to go dark around her.



When Elizabeth awoke, all that was left of the fire were cinders. All that was left of her brother was a bloodstain, and all the was left of Verity was a note next to a small box. Whatever had been in the tea clouded her head still, but she forced herself up and stared up at the sun with her eyes closed tightly to help wake herself up. Eventually, she stood, picking up the box as she did so, and inspected the note.

Elizabeth,

Thank you for sharing your fire with me. I am sorry for what was done last night, and that I could not save anyone but you. You have nothing more to fear from your family. Live your life as you wish. This is all I can offer in thanks for the light you offered me.

With much regret,

...It was an entirely surreal experience. If not for the blood on the ground and the note, she may have convinced herself it was a nightmare. She opened the simple box, and found a few coins and a bit of food inside. It was very… considerate, but the note mentioned nothing about it. Strange. Verity did not seem like the kind of woman to give something and not mention it.

...But then, what kind of woman had Verity truly been?

Elizabeth glanced briefly at the bloodstain where her brother had been. It looked undisturbed, as though the body had vanished. Her stomach felt… uneasy. She closed the box.

Allen, a murderer, and sent to kill her as well. Her mother had to have orchestrated all this, somehow. She had known of her mother's hatred - it was difficult no to - but this... This was beyond what she had expected. Beyond her worst nightmares. Luckily, finally, it seemed as though she was beyond her reach. Elizabeth sighed. She would never know why. Perhaps that was for the best.

Really, she did not know what to think of any of this, but there was no going back.

Elizabeth continued on down the canyon trail, leaving the bad memories behind. She would not thank Verity for this, but somehow she expected that the woman had never wanted her to do that. She did, however, silently wish the healer luck in helping the people along the Roar. She only hoped it would be less violent than the help that had been offered her.



Verity was deep in thought as the horse emerged from the stony canyon. Before her, great rolling plains ascended upwards, punctuated occasionally by large stones. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of a rapid river. The Lion’s Roar. Within a day, she would find pockets of the Blue Fever and would set to work, despite the small setback...

She sighed deeply.

“Leon.” She murmured, and she felt the presence in her mind stir. Her shadow upon the horse darkened.

“Mistress?” Came the rough reply.

“Manifest yourself.” She ordered, and he did so, standing on the ground next to her. His face appeared to be covered by a black cloth, ragged and torn on the edges, and his shoulders were draped in a similar material. She could see nothing of his face but the ghost white skin around his eyes. The eyes themselves were simply black. “What did you think of Elizabeth?” She asked.

Leon stared at her.

“...Echoes against the rafters, screaming in the hall. Hurrying, bootstraps, backpack, begone. Suspicions and accusations heavy along the road behind, a weight upon a weary mind. She looks back, and wishes for more food. Elizabeth. A name still clumsy on an unsure tongue. The mind is right but the body doesn't fit.” He muttered, eyes darting back and forth, before resting once more upon her face. "I left a box, with food and coins, found on the things I killed. Fix the hunger, but not the flesh. But the flesh is weak, and is she a danger...?" He stared at her intently, speaking his next words slowly. "Shall I kill it?"

Verity blinked rapidly, and swallowed.

“...No, Leon. That is alright. Thank you for leaving a gift for her. That was very kind.”

There were several seconds of silence.

“Am I evil?” Leon asked, and Verity winced, remembering what she had told Elizabeth. That something evil had wounded Allen. Verity bit her lip, then climbed down from the horse. Leon did not move as she embraced him.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

A featherlight hand touched her back for half a second, and then the sensation disappeared. She almost felt as though she imagined it. In fact, she may have.

“...Never sorry. Every light casts a shadow.” Leon mumbled. Verity pulled away to look at him, but just like that, he was gone. Her shadow was once more upon the ground. A few tears dripped down her cheeks, and she wiped them away quickly before mounting the horse once more.

“I will save you.” She murmured as she flicked the reins. The horse moved forward at a brisk trot. There were ill people in need of her, and she could afford no more delays.

Sister Verity() and Leon the Shade()

Background: Neither Verity nor Leon remember much of their lives before their induction (or abduction) into the pseudo-religious organization known as the Sisterhood of light. It is likely that the constant dogmatic teachings or blatant and violent torture were infused with a magic that made them forget - anything to make them completely loyal to the Sisterhood. Neither is very concerned with learning about their past, however. They are much more preoccupied with the present, and the future.

Verity's earliest memories are of darkness - The Sisterhood mostly recruits from the downtrodden of their native plane, and so it is likely that Verity was rescued from the streets or perhaps even sold into service. She may have even been abducted, much like Leon - the Sisterhood is always interested in young girls with magical talent. From the time of recruitment until their first encounter with "sin", the young initiates live in complete darkness, taught by a select few Sisters and living their lives as though they are blind. Once the Sisters feel that the girls have a strong grasp on healing magic, they introduce them, briefly, to the boy who will eventually become their Shadow.

These boys are exclusively petty criminals or simply very poor. They are beaten, burned, and reminded constantly that they are worth nothing and will be given no quarter. The Sisters believe this engenders a stronger loyalty towards the Sister who they will eventually serve, since that is the Sister who saves them from the pain for the first time. It certainly worked with Leon. However, the point is ultimately moot - the ritual wherein the Shadow pledges their life to the Sister is eternally binding, and no dissension is possible.

The boy kills himself before the Sister, after years of intensive physical training. The Sister then performs a powerful ritual of necromancy that binds the body, shape, and skills of the boy to their shadow as a Shade, and the soul is forcibly removed from the body. The Shadow, as they are called, then protects the Sister for as long as she may live, killing those who would do her harm. These shades have no personality, no conscience, and no voice. This allows the sister to hold to the vow of peace she swears, without endangering herself as she goes about her task of bringing healing to the outside world. In essence, the Shade sins for her, so that her own soul remains pure. Or so they teach.

Verity, however, held within her soul a latent planeswalker's spark. When Leon died in front of her during the completion of the ritual, and she realized full what it had done, it ignited. Leon was still killed, however, his soul did not escape the pull of the Blind Eternities, and he was dragged away with Verity. Verity now acts like a living phylactery for his soul, even as his body resides within her shadow. Because of this, Leon retains snippets of his personality (such as it is after years of death and torture) and flashes of memory. He acts independently of Verity, as all Shadows do, but he is also capable of independent thought, and emotion. What Verity has done to Leon weighs heavily upon her conscience, and now she searches the multiverse for a way to restore him, or, failing that, to put him out of his misery.

Appearance and Personality: Verity appears to be a young woman with long, white hair and pale skin. Her eyes are blue, and she generally wears modest white dresses and light cloaks. She speaks softly and enjoys small conversations. She never lies directly, and always strives to bring comfort to those around her. That being said, she has very little time or patience for the belligerent - partially because agitated people around her tend to spontaneously grow lethal wounds. She will never turn down someone who needs help, but neither will she actively aid someone in activities she finds unpleasant or destructive.

Leon is incapable of wearing clothes, at least when he's not fully "manifested". He usually exists intangibly as Verity's shadow. When full manifested, and unclothed, he appears to be a lithe and gaunt human man, with tangled black hair and black pools for eyes. His skin is bluish-white, like that of a corpse. At Verity's request, he uses his power over darkness to garb himself in a facsimile of cloth - it's intangible, but keeps him modest. This usually takes the appearance of a thick black cloak and mask, ragged at the edges. To him, Verity is everything, and though he cannot truly die, having already done so, he would gladly do so a million times, and more. How much of this is his actual devotion, and how much is a result of the ritual, is unknown.

Verity often asks his opinion of things that happen around them. Generally, his response is terse, if thoughtful. Longer conversation usually turns back to his duty to protect Verity or the "things" he's recently killed. Verity tries to coax more out of him, but has met with little success. He's proven that he is capable of remembering events in great detail, and carrying out complex instructions, but but when it comes to his emotions, Leon is consistently lifeless.

Abilities: Verity is primarily a healer, and a very skilled one at that. She is capable of locating and eradicating all sorts of disease - whether it be of the body or mind. She can mend broken bones and punctured organs swiftly and easily, and is very well versed in the mundane methods of medical procedure. She is, however, completely useless in the middle of a fight unless she is able to tend to someone on an individual basis, and is left entirely alone. She cannot cast any sort of offensive magic, and can only manage the most rudimentary of barrier spells - even these, she may refuse to cast in anything short of self-defense. She is far more interested in seeing to the after-effects of a conflict, and not fanning the flames of one.

Leon, on the other hand, is the reason Verity is capable of leading such a peaceful existence, despite the increasingly dangerous areas where she travels. He can sense malice off of anyone, or anything, that gets too close - especially if the malice they feel is directed towards Verity. After he senses and locates the threat, Verity's shadow will vanish. He can jump from places of darkness, and even to other creature's shadows, with ease. While doing this, he remains mostly intangible, and causes parts of his own body to become physical only during the moment he strikes. He does not turn himself invisible, exactly, but the speed with which he moves between shadows is difficult to follow, and he may as well be untraceable if the darkness is deep enough.

He prefers small weapons, which he creates out of concentrated darkness and hatred for those who would do Verity harm. The wounds these shadow weapons afflict are dire, festering long after they should have healed, should the victim survive. They also resist both traditional and magical methods of restoration. If his wrathful spite is powerful enough, his weapons can cause a spreading blight to creep through his victim's bodies. Even the most superficial of wounds can cause perfectly healthy beings to wither and rot. He kills quickly, silently, and without remorse. Darkness falls on his foes, and never lifts.

I really enjoyed this, in a twisted, morbid kind of way. You did an excellent job with Verity and Leon, making them seem well beyond human. Verity has that sort of "Tolkenesque Elf Surreal" thing going on, while Leon, well, is creepy as hell. But both of them felt pretty perfect to me.

Also, I thought Elizabeth's story was an excellent framing device for the Verity/Leon story. Really, the whole world felt really tangible and realized to me. The voices reminded me a lot of the Shorecerers in a weird way, sort of like what the Shorecerers would be doing if they gave a crap about the outside world.

There were a few typos I spotted, which I will point out here:



So yeah, minor things aside, I enjoyed this story quite a bit. The characters and the atmosphere are excellent, and the duality of Verity is really intriguing. Thanks for posting! (And expect a PM from me shortly regarding the angry smilie...)

So, obviously, I am fascinated by Verity. The way you describe her "training," as it were, is really wonderful. Very evocative, very interesting, and just as noteworthy for what it doesn't reveal as what it does. The figurative language in those sections is especially striking -- it's always understandable, but it was an otherworldly quality to it. Really, really good. I also liked the subtle ways you indicated that something is Not Quite Right (TM) about Verity, before we discover what that is.

Similarly, the parts which explore Verity's relationship with Leon. The reveal is paced just right, so that, even as you start to suspect what's coming, you're still shocked when it happens. Again, just really chilling stuff. Leon's question -- "shall I kill it" -- is the sort of thing which makes the blood run cold.

I'm left with a couple big questions, to which I will be fascinated to learn the answers, if we ever do. Namely, what sort of order (or whatever it might be) is training these healers and killers like this, and why would they do it? There's always something which strikes me as particularly cruel about conscripting children into these sorts of things -- after all, they never have a choice in the matter. And I'm left wondering about how Verity feels about what she is, what was done to her, and what she herself has done since. Obviously, she projects this aura of sadness, and we see at the end that she is of a mind to save her shadow, whatever that might mean in this case. But she also seems just a little too well-adjusted to this arrangement for comfort. I wonder what the balance is in her mind between true belief and self-justification. But that's a question for another time.

Anyway, I think that duality is a theme which comes up with a lot of your characters. I'm thinking, here, about Fisco and Aloise, or Jinsen and Kimberley, for example. You have a way of pairing people who are nominally opposites, and teasing away at what they bring out in each other. And, here, we have that same sort of question of duality and opposites, only collapsed into a single person -- even though that person is a sort of shared entity. It's an interesting take, and I really enjoyed seeing it. Verity is outwardly the "good" half, and yet it's Leon who I really find myself feeling empathy for. Again, it comes down to that lack of choice, that lack of agency. In both life and death, his choices have never been his own. Verity had much of her life scripted for her, too, but she has more agency than Leon ever had. So I feel tempted to hold her to a higher standard, odd as that may seem.

Anyway, thanks again for posting! I really enjoyed this one, when it wasn't scaring the willies out of me.

Golden coins hold darker sides,
And every lamp casts shadows gray,
And what, within that shadow, hides,
Is more than anyone could say.

First, do you ever enjoy something in a way that isn't twisted or morbid? Hahahaha... ha...

Anyway, I'm glad I hit the right notes with Verity and Leon. It's sort of difficult, sometimes, to try and explain what people are doing or attempting to do, but from the point of view of someone else who just doesn't understand. Which, I guess, is why I write stuff like that so often. I like a challenge! Sometimes. I'm really aiming for that "Tolkien-esque elf" feel for Verity, now that I think about it - along with the attitude that she knows better than everyone else.

As for Blasphemous Act - that is uncanny! Hmm, and potentially intriguing, to be honest. Now that I've got Innistrad on the mind, Verity and Leon would certainly, ah, make waves on the plane. Woooow, that's definitely something I'm going to be adding to my list of explorable possibilities. (...I think explorable is a word? Isn't it a word?)

I believe I addressed just about everything else in that lengthy PM, so I'll just reiterate again - thanks for reading!

Yeah, for a great deal of Verity's "training", she was a small child. I can't, with any authority, say how old she is right now because I'm honestly not sure. I'm also not sure it matters? Anyway, I enjoyed writing the snippets showing Verity and Leon's past because on one hand, we have someone who is to have a very real, very tangible effect upon the lives of those around her, but her studies are mostly philosophical and spiritual - whereas with Leon, he is never intended to be present, or alive, for his eventual "job", but the training is extraordinary physical and and painful.

Leon's lines are few and far between - for what I hope are obvious reasons. The scene where Leon murders Allen is my absolute favorite, actually, because Verity is noticeably absent for most of it. And yet, she is in control of the entire situation. Elizabeth has all forgotten about the healer, who is watching these events unfold silently, and when Leon catches up with Allen and has a garrote to his throat, Elizabeth believes she is being looked at and she is being addressed, but that's not the case.

After all, Leon asks the exact same question later in the story, and he's addressing the same person both times. The reason Elizabeth never gets to respond to the question is because Verity give Leon the go-ahead behind her back. Elizabeth never got to decide her brother's fate - Verity and Leon had decided it for her long before Verity ever rode into Elizabeth's camp.

I'm not exactly sure how much of this got across in the text, but for additional context, Verity had no idea what she was riding into when she entered Kingsman's Canyon. She calls it a "distraction" because it was unexpected, and as not aware of anyone's attempts to kill anyone until Leon alerted her to Allen's merry band of assassins on her way through. The fact that they were filled with murderous intent was enough for Verity not only to condemn them immediately, but to sentence them to death as well. I should make it absolutely clear that Leon will do NOTHING if it is without Verity's permission. She let's him act under what free-will he has left, but she holds ultimate veto power over his ability to murder anyone.

But of course, she is not without mercy - She sent Leon to scout out the assassins, who by now had noticed her riding by and kept hidden, and Leon discovered their target and the reason behind the soon-to-be ill-fated endeavor. She ordered Leon to murder everyone but Allen, gouge out his eyes, and harass him towards the camp.

Like Elizabeth accused, "You knew."

Verity only remained silent because she can not lie.

Of course, this is all background information, although relevant to understanding the story fully, not exactly relevant to the plot, and not exactly possible to do from just Elizabeth's perspective. A lot of this information got left by the wayside because there was no reasonable way for me to explain it without bastardizing Verity's personality or forcing Elizabeth to do random and unreasonable things. (I mean, at least Allen was mad with fear and anger, so him being unreasonable was, uh... reasonable.) Oh, how I suffer for the sake of the plot! T_T

I believe that should help you to better understand what Verity is and how she feels about what's been done to her. In her mind, action is the final truth, because this is what she was taught. If she never murders, her hands remain clean. If she never lies, her tongue remains pure. Intent, power, culpability... this never factors into it, because she has DONE no wrong. But at the same time, she is companion to Leon, who can sense malice and murders those who only INTEND to do harm, (specifically, those who intend to harm Verity) and the question becomes - what condemns them and not her?

Right now, she doesn't give it much thought. She's not concerned about it, she is doing what she was taught and what she must do in order to follow her creed. She may have left the Sisterhood because she did not agree with what they did to Leon, or the conclusion she was led to by the information she was given... But if she had not been immediately forced away from her home plane by the first inklings of doubt, would she have been resistant to their explanations afterward?

I'm inclined to think not.

And, please! Hold Verity to a higher standard. You should. I'm curious to see how often she lives up to it.

Thanks again for reading, OL.

Yeah, the contrast there is very striking, very stark.



That was kind of what I assumed. I figured that he needed at least some level of autonomy, just because I couldn't imagine Verity having to constantly manage him. But I figured that, when it comes to any action of consequence, she's the one making the choices. Which, again, highlights Leon's total lack of agency, and explains why I find myself so unnerved by Verity. It's one thing to kill and have to deal with the consequences. It's another thing entirely to exercise power over life and death while believing that you yourself are not really the one whose conscience is at stake. And, frankly, that makes Verity *dangerous* in a way which I think she wouldn't even perceive -- which only makes her more dangerous still.

Again, I find myself reminded of C.S. Lewis's comment: "The greatest evil is not now done in those sordid 'dens of crime' that Dickens loved to paint. It is not done even in concentration camps and labor camps. In those we see its final result. But it is conceived and ordered (moved, seconded, carried, and minuted) in clean, carpeted, warmed, and well-lighted offices, by quiet men with white collars and cut fingernails and smooth-shaven cheeks who do not need to raise their voice."

Because that's Verity and her Sisterhood, right there. Quiet women in white robes with clean fingers and smooth skin who do not need to raise their voices.



Hey, that's a feature, not a bug! I like that we're left to puzzle out these bits of background, rather than just having them served up by Basil Exposition, or one of his myriad cousins!



Mission accepted.

I really like this story a lot. I'm actually glad it exists alongside Raven's recent trans (mer)woman story, because while I think it's important to have narratives that are very positive and supportive I think it's also important to have narratives that acknowledge the ugliness and the violence that comes with being trans. Though obviously this is an extreme case.

I agree with Raven that the world felt tangible and realized. I actually wasn't sure until the post-story planeswalker bio whether it all took place on the same world or not--it could have and would have felt reasonable, but the two settings divorced from each other also kind of is interesting because there's a hinted at parallelism I think between the zealotry of both planes? Lots and lots and lots of doubling in this story.

There are two things that puzzle me. First, I actually don't know what Leon was talking about at the end? Just... yeah, unclear on that. (The rest of the stuff--who Leon was asking for verification for example--wasn't too hard to puzzle out and I'd agree it's a feature not a bug.)

The other thing that puzzles me is Allan's behavior. It just seems odd to me, inconsistent, that he'd murder the father for protecting the sister but not the sister herself. If anyone would face that violence I would have assumed it would be Elizabeth.

I think these characters, bouncing off the dualism idea, could play rather interestingly against some of the other characters that carry something of a double inside themselves... Kirsh, Asher, and Lukas all leap to mind. In fact I may have some ideas bouncing around on that front... We'll see if they develop substantially...

Well done.

Well, Leon's not really all... there. Verity is trying to get an emotional response from a man that is just a shadow of his former self. (I'm sorry, low hanging fruit.) I was trying to convey that it was Leon who left the box of coins and hardtack for Elizabeth, after Verity left the note. It was sort of a way to show he's still a little bit human, I guess? I'm not sure I got that across well, however. The next thing he says "Elizabeth, safe sinner. Safe for you." is his general response to people who mean them no harm. He believes everyone except Verity is a sinner, because everyone except Verity has the potential to harm her. To him, it's all very black and white. (AHAHA SORRY SORRY)

Then, of course, he asks if he needs to go back and kill her. Because he would, without question or remorse, and that causes Verity to tear up. Hmm, maybe I'll edit this whole interaction to make it more clear. Leon needs a better voice. Maybe I'll use Cole from Dragon Age as an inspiration for that...



Well, they're family life is a bit complex and I didn't really go into it, but I tried to imply that their mother was behind everything? Like, she doesn't actually hate Elizabeth because she's trans - she just wants the family fortune for herself, but that's not super clear. The only thing implying wealth is Allen's ability to hire an entourage of assassins to help him track down his wayward sister - at his mother's insistence, of course. Allen's the transphobe, and definitely evil, but Elizabeth's mother is just, uh, evil. Basically, Allen's super unstable and the mother exploited that?

Hmm, but if that's not clear then maybe I should go more in depth there. What do you think?



Let me know.

Mm, yeah, I think both things are a little unclear but it's always possible I'm just stupid!

I definitely didn't quite piece together everything about Allen's role in all this, in part because I sort of assumed that Allen would've just gathered up some of the like I dunno **** from the village to persecute his sister? Who needs to be paid in gold when you can be paid in suffering, I guess. But I'm not sure if that was something unclear in the story or if I just jumped to conclusions.