#baelbaurith

[incorrectarknlegacyquotes]

Marchosias: These kids these days, I’ll tell you what. They are nothing like we used to be back when we were in fraternities. They have no respect for anybody, okay? They’re like stupid little goddamn savages.

Andras: They’re bitches, they’re bitches! They’re little bitches!

Marchosias: I came in there, right? And I was polite, and I was nice to them. I was cordial. And they completely goddamn disrespected me! Little idiots! Idiots! I was completely respectful. They’re supposed to be my brothers, right? They’re my brothers? No, no, that’s not fun - what they were doing wasn’t fun - they kept zapping us and zapping us! Idiots! Savages! IDIOTS! IDIOTS!

[shannathesiren]

It's been a moment since I've done this.

But I think I'm going to let my Acolyte back onto the blog for a day or two. She has been making such great strides in her training, after all.

I won't be monitoring messages this time, but she will be informing me if anyone attempts to compromise her.

-M.

[the-siren-saga]

A Gift

Andras As’phyxiar, Master of Forbidden Knowledge, was not what one would call a merciful man. 

Oh, he was capable of great acts of charity. A savior to many, a medical pioneer to whom a great number of Dekn owed their very lives. A man who some would go so far as to call a saint, though his reaction to that depended on who it was that was giving him that title. But he was not merciful, and he was not forgiving, and he was certainly not kind. 

Despite this, there was something in him that tested his cold, cruel nature when it came to dealing with the victims of his rival and admirer, Marchosias Aversen. 

The first time Marchosias left him a gift, he had just finished a long all-nighter performing some… rather grisly live-specimen research on the Arkn nervous system, he was quite exhausted, and he wanted nothing more than to go to bed, when suddenly, there was a knock on the door. 

A knock on the door.

Of a very, very secure facility. 

Because I really needed more stress right now, at this moment, he thought to himself as he prepared to give whoever it was a bad trip they’d not soon forget courtesy of the Fear Invocation. Except, when he opened the door…

Well, what he saw could hardly be called a trespasser. 

It was a young, attractive man, with tanned skin and sandy blond hair, mostly naked save for a loincloth and shackles around his wrists and ankles. Clearly, one of my assistants needs to be taught a thing or two about discretion. 

“Leave,” Andras said, laconic and cold. “I don’t know who sent for you, but it was emphatically not me. Go away, and don’t even think of coming back.”

The man bowed deeply. “I was told you’d be reluctant, Master Isolator,” he stammered, clearly apologetic, but also clearly not making any motion to leave. “I beg of you, accept me, for I come as emissary of Our Most Holy--”

“My family line has its origins in the priesthood of Ced’ric. Trust me, I’m in no need of help finding religion, especially if it comes dressed as a male prostitute. Goodbye,” Andras spat, moving to close the door before the man wedged himself between it and the doorframe in an incredibly intrusive way. 

“--I come as emissary of Our Most Holy Eternal Master and Divine Rightful Emperor, Elucidis of the Purple Rose,” the uninvited guest finished. “I am His gift to His beloved, and I have been sent to be of use to you.”

Marchosias FUCKING Aversen, I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD DELIVERED TO ME ON A PLATE, Andras thought to himself, so angry his vision was beginning to go red. In what was an incredibly impressive feat, he managed to conceal it from his… gift with a few deep breathing exercises. 

"I see," Andras said, his voice far more measured than his emotional state. "And did he tell you just what I do with strangers who come gift-wrapped and delivered to the door of my laboratory?"

But do you really want to do that? a woman's voice– the voice of his beloved sister– whispered in his mind, as it often did in moments when he was about to do something he would soon come to regret. This is what he sees in you, what he wants from you. Your rage. Your violence.

The voice calmed and centered him, forced him to think about his actions for once. She was good at that. You're right, Annis. Hethe damn it, you're always bloody right. 

"Master Isolator, whatever you see fit to do with me is a fate I will gladly–"

"Shut up," Andras snarled. "And stand still, I don't want to hurt you but I will if you leave me with no other choice." He was hard at work, correcting the neurological pathways formed by Marchosias's conditioning and erasing any particularly traumatic experiences. 

But think of how much we could LEARN from these experiences, Senêrouxe! Think of the applications, the ways that the fabric of our society could be reshaped if we only understood how the mind can be–

"Caris, now is not the time," he said aloud. Of course, he knew it wasn't actually his former lover, just a manifestation of the traits she always intensified in him combined with his own grief over losing her, but he let himself engage in the level of self-deception necessary to believe that it was Caris anyway. It was the only way to keep her close. 

A few switches flipped. A few electrochemical reactions redirected. Like fixing a machine, he thought to himself, or correcting a software glitch. Just a matter of knowing how the damn thing works. 

"Gaaah, fuck," the man in front of him cried out, jolting up and finding his wrists and ankles shackled. "Where am– Baelbaurith As'phyxiar?!" 

"Good, good, it worked." Gesturing to a nearby assistant to get some clothes for the newly deprogrammed man, he unlocked the shackles, attempting to be as friendly as he was capable of being. "What's your name? Do you have a family?"

"I'm, uh, Cassius. Cassius Leclair. And… just my sister Estelle, we have an apartment in Laen. De'ebolus's sake, why can't I remember how I got here, what happened to me…"

Andras gave a weary, exhausted sigh. "You were indoctrinated and sent to serve me by some highly, highly reprehensible people. I, being the better man in this situation, refused and undid what was done to you," he explained, turning away to allow Cassius some privacy to get dressed. "Be grateful that you were brought to me on a relatively good day. Now, obviously, I can't have anyone knowing the location of this facility, and I don't want to damage your mind further by erasing the memories myself, so, here." He passed the man a glass of water and a small, black pill. "By the time you open your eyes, you'll be back with Estelle like nothing happened."

"Are you, um, are you sure?" Cassius stammered. 

"Take the damn pill, Cassius."

He gulped and did as he was told, and in a matter of seconds, he was asleep in a pile on the floor. 

"Yes," Andras said over the radio, ready for this whole situation to be over, "I need a shuttle ready to transport someone to Estelle Leclair's residence in Laen… Why? Because I bloody well said so, that's why! Don't ask questions, Lutin, just do it. Fifteen minutes? Fine. Just make sure someone gets here, and be discreet about it. We don't need any details getting out about this."

[usedtothesedizzyspells]

since it seems like y'all motherfuckers still don't get it:

Baelbaurith Vepar Annalinde Oshtai is a greedy, self-absorbed creature who abuses her consort and directly finances the slave trade.

I'll say it as many times as I need to.

[shannathesiren]

p please know th at I d o nt see you as any less. y you're still my friend shanna. "Breaking the barriers of friendship helps one transcend into a brighter path. Freedom comes from these broken barriers." - "Good Lovers," by Vivrenacht. Unsure if you ever rr ead it, but hopefully y ou can while he's th er e for you - F a u st

...I love Vivrenacht. Her Aurize Volas Vre Dekn Covare was one of my favorite books as a teenager.

Thank you for th-- hold on. I'm getting called away to fetch something.

-Shanna

Didn't I warn you all that I was watching? I'll allow it this once, because learning to stay focused when someone is encouraging her to go astray is an important skill. But you must understand, Franz Irinith-Faust, that she does not have a place in her life for you anymore.

I'm sincerely sorry for what Andras is doing to you. But, you know, I could wipe it all away the way I did for my dearest Acolyte. I could take your hand and lead you out of the pain and the fear, towards a brighter world. You don't have to be suspicious of me. I only want to help you.

I'm going to talk to darling Shanna about her reaction here later. In the meantime, this exercise continues. Please, lovely readers, do send in more questions.

-M.

[shannathesiren]

The more things change...

According to the Irinith boy, Andras is afraid of me because I make him lose control.

Of course, I knew that much by how flustered he used to get back in the college days whenever I'd so much as look at him. It was so cute, the way he'd blush and stammer when I'd ask an innocent question, or when my fingers would accidentally brush against his arm.

And rather than give into what we both know he wants, he's conditioned himself to hate and fear me. In that way, I suppose he's his own most successful test subject.

-M.

[shannathesiren]

Since my lovely Acolyte doesn't know when to leave well enough alone, I will be taking over this blog on her behalf for the foreseeable future.

Honestly, why I allowed her to keep posting here in the first place is beyond me.

Anyway, asks are on. I encourage you to send in any inquiries you may have.

-M.

[shannathesiren]

You are a cruel worm, and I dance upon the grave you are so eager to dig for yourself. You fear the future as much as you eagerly await it, don't you? You remember what your Consort - no, not Averil, the other one - whispered in your ear. Your fate lies in the hands of the Falling Star. - Ryael'ayre

Hello, Ryael'ayre. I was wondering when you'd come calling.

First of all, Shanna Averil is not my Consort. She is my Acolyte, an honor that I've never before given and never will again. As the only other holder of the ability she possesses, I... have a responsibility, of sorts, to shape her into all she has the potential to be.

Second of all, and I suggest you listen well to this-- My fate rests with no one but me. The Irinith boy, important as he is to my ascension, can be controlled as easily as anyone else. We all have something in this world that we want, Ryael'ayre. To discover precisely what that is, is to discover the key to a person's soul.

But I do wonder-- What is it that you desire? Because you could have all that and more, if you'd stop fighting me. I'm being serious. Do you know what use the Purple Rose has for someone of your talents? How much of an asset you would be to my cause? All you need to do is serve me, and I will give you everything.

Best regards.

-M.

[shannathesiren]

I don't even worship Marchosias in the least and even I know craving what he has is going to lead to the worst downfall imaginable.

Oh, I've already said that TRE will be dealt with. I am a god, after all, all of this happens because I allow it to.

As for you, well, you will. Soon enough.

-M.

[shannathesiren]

you may laugh at your short-lived victory, but you know who you're never getting back? Barbatos. :) - A

Hello again, Andras. A pleasure, as always. How has your misdirected rage against the Irinith boy been treating you? Quite cruel, how you told him one thing and told my dear Shanna an entirely different story. Say what you want about me, but at least when I want to punish someone, I do it with finesse.

Speaking of punishment, I'd caution you against playing so loose with the names of the dead, especially those loved by one with such far-reaching influence as I. I could do a lot of things. Things that would make your life a living hell. Wouldn't take much-- just a few words to the right person, and I can ensure that a painful, slow-acting poison is slipped into dear, sweet Ka'athrin's evening wine before she even notices.

Two can play at this game, Senêrouxe. I recommend that you watch your step.

-M.

[shannathesiren]

Oh, and in case anyone gets any ideas on trying to separate her from me? Don't even think about it. The subrealm we're in has been conveniently erased from the records of both U.M.E.E.C. and SEEKER, and the lovely abode I've chosen for Shanna's training is very well guarded. So, for your own sake, I recommend you leave me to my work.

-M.

[shannathesiren]

My dear Acolyte is asleep right now, but I'm looking through this little blog she's been keeping. It's adorable, how she resisted my first attempt to lead her into the light. How she thought her own will was so much stronger than mine. Thankfully, she knew that to surrender to me was best in the end. They all do.

Regardless, I think I'll have to have a little talk with her when she wakes, and let her know just how unacceptable I find that sort of disobedience from those in my service.

I suppose I should let her off with a warning this time, though. She didn't know any better, after all. The truth had... not fully taken root in her mind.

It's also greatly upsetting, to see just how much her early encounter with Andras As'phyxiar affected her. The poor dear was a wreck before I came along to aid her. But you'll be happy to know that she is more at peace now than she has ever been. Even now, as she rests, she senses my presence and is comforted by it.

Sleep well, my sweet Shanna. Tomorrow, your training begins in earnest.

-M.

[the-siren-saga]

"Keeping secrets from me again?" Marchosias asked with a raised eyebrow, noticing how Shanna still focused on her phone as he reached to correct her posture. "Let me see that."

Shanna offered up the phone wordlessly, letting him see the message that Andras had sent her.

Marchosias smiled coldly, reading the message. To Shanna, it appeared to be an expression of pity. "Oh, you poor dear," he said, "still so tied up in sympathy for the boy who kidnapped, beat, and starved your beloved patron. I thought we were past this, my Acolyte, that you weren't the same woman you were when you were made to deliver me to him." 

"I'm not," Shanna answered in an attempt to defend herself, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's just that, well, Faust and I used to be such good friends before I met you. He was the first one who understood what I was going through. I should…"

"You should what?" he asked, feigning concern quite well, all things considered. He patted the seat next to himself, and Shanna moved to curl up against him, her head on his chest. 

"Feel… something, I don't know. It worries me that he's being hurt the way I was and I'm not even upset." Shanna sighed. It was so tempting to let herself sink deeper into the feeling of peace and pleasure that being around Marchosias tended to create. But she couldn't let herself. Not now.

"Let go," he murmured, and she did, relaxing almost immediately. "Good. That wasn't so hard, was it? Isn't it so much better when you don't fight the one who only wants what's best for you?"

Yeah. Yeah, it was. It was foolish of her, to let her own friendship for a boy she'd barely known before being shown the light get in the way of this feeling. "Yes, my Baelbaurith," she said softly.

"That's what I thought. Forget the Irinith boy, sweet Shanna," Marchosias purred, his arm possessively wrapped around her. "Forget the friendship you think you had with him. The only good thing that he ever did for you was deliver you to me."

She could have tried to fight it, but even with the way that her power was amplified, she was utterly powerless against him.

All she could do was let go.

[the-siren-saga]

The first disturbance to Shanna’s newfound tranquility came in the form of an all-too-familiar itch in the back of her mind.

She was standing in the center of a spacious, almost cathedral-like room in Marchosias’ tropical hideaway, clothed in a deep purple chiton, her hair pulled back with a golden hairpin. Her wise, benevolent patron circled the room as he spoke, as a vulture might circle the carcass of some wild beast. “The key to mastery of any gift, especially ours,” he said, his voice somehow both incredibly soft and powerful enough to fill the room, “is control. How do you achieve this control?”

“I achieve perfect control through perfect surrender,” Shanna responded, her attention fixated on him as she ignored the small disturbance, desperately hoping it wasn’t what she thought it was. It was only the seventh time he’d drilled her this way, and the responses were starting to become automatic.

The prompt response won her a pleased smile from the Dekn Master, who had taken out his tablet and began typing furiously as he circled his young acolyte. “Good. Very good. And what is perfect surrender?”

“Perfect surrender is the state of--” She paused. There it was. A light tug at the back of her mind. A chill down her spine. The sense that, if not for the protections placed upon her by her Baelbaurith, she would have been driven absolutely mad. Andras.

Marchosias snapped his fingers, in an attempt to return her attention to him. “Do we need to start over, Acolyte?”

Shanna answered as promptly as before. "I'm sorry. I just got distracted." I think Andras just tried to use the Fear Invocation on me again.

The look in his eyes was stern, but to Shanna, it contained a depth of kindness. "What did I tell you this morning about trying to keep secrets from me, my sweet Shanna?" he asked, crossing the room and taking her head in his hands. "For starters, you can't do it. Just as the night we met, you're still chronically incapable of shielding your thoughts from my gaze. And even if you were capable of it… What kind of Acolyte would you be if you didn’t have unconditional trust in me?"

This time, Shanna opened her mind to him immediately. "It was Andras," she said, in a much quieter tone. "He's trying to use his power on me and now he knows he can't."

Upon hearing this, Marchosias gathered Shanna into an embrace. "It's alright, my dear," he said, his voice so enthralling that her fear was forgotten almost immediately. "He can't hurt you, not anymore, as long as you trust me to keep you safe. You're mine now, all mine."

[shannathesiren]

You know what? That's it. I've had enough of this. If I can't hurt you, I'll hurt Faust instead. Know that what happens to the Irinith boy from now on is on your head. - A

I'm... confused as to how I'm supposed to respond to this. Faust was my friend before everything happened, so, I guess by that logic I should be upset? But it all feels so far away. I don't know how to feel about that.

I think I should tell Baelbaurith Aversen about this. He won't be happy that you tried to contact me again.

-Shanna

[the-siren-saga]

Between exploring the property and learning some of what would be expected of her as acolyte to Marchosias Aversen, Shanna’s first day at the manor had been a busy one.

...Of course, there was that one incident, where Andras almost managed to break through the spell placed on her by her new master. And that incident, of course, was the subject of Shanna’s after-dinner conversation with Marchosias.

“Shanna, my dear,” he called to her, reclining in his chair. “Come. There are some things I’d like to talk to you about.”

Without even a word, she rose from her place across the room and came to stand at his side. Even after all the time she’d spent in his presence, being acknowledged by him this way still gave her a small burst of happiness and pride each time. He had a special gift for making her feel like the world had shrunk to just the two of them. “My Baelbaurith,” she said, bowing her head in reverence.

Shanna’s prompt obedience made him smile, in a way that could be seen either as a hungry leer or an almost paternal expression of pride, depending on which side of his power one happened to be on. “You lost focus today, Acolyte,” he chided as his arm wrapped around her waist, his voice nearly a whisper but still just as entrancing.

“It was--” Shanna began to say, before thinking better of it. The word Andras died on her lips. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.”

“I will be presenting you before the Dekn Court in only a few short months,” Marchosias replied, still somewhat teasingly chiding, but with a dangerous edge to his voice. “You’ll be at my side, bearing my standard when I ascend to the throne of Emperor. I cannot tolerate imperfection from you.”

“I don’t know why I let him sneak into my mind that way,” she said, by way of apology, or possibly as an attempt to explain herself. “I didn’t think I’d still be able to feel it if he tried to get to me again.”

Sensing an opportunity, he drew her closer to him, his hand resting on the small of her back. “And yet, you felt it. You let your own fear override the faith you have in me. I’d almost be impressed, if it weren’t so blatantly offensive.”

At this, Shanna lowered her head in shame. She really did try to justify the interest he’d taken in her, to trust in his leadership. And she was so, so grateful for all he’d done for her. How did this happen? How could she commit such a slight against the man who had uplifted her to such a high position and dedicated himself fully to her improvement?

“You know, I was generous today. I let you roam the Manor like it was as much yours as mine. I gave you a certain amount of freedom,” he began. “I was, well, maybe I was too kind, seeing as you lack even the basic control over your own thoughts. Then again, I suppose it’s a good thing you’re with someone who can do that for you.”

Despite the shame she felt, Shanna smiled at that last bit. Yeah. Yeah, it was good, to be in the care of someone so willing to do that which she couldn’t do for herself.

“Tomorrow, I won’t be so generous,” he continued, stroking her back gently. “I’m aware that this is a reward for bad behavior in some ways, but tomorrow, and until I’m assured that your surrender to me is complete, you won’t leave my side unless I explicitly tell you to do so. Am I understood?”

As Marchosias let some of his beguiling speech leak out, Shanna folded in on herself even more than she already had. “Yes, my Baelbaurith,” she replied, her own voice barely a whisper.

He smiled the same half hungry, half proud smile from earlier. “Very good,” he said. “Now. I think you look tired. Come, let me sing you to sleep.”