#noctua quill

[sitraachranovel]

An excerpt from the book; A History of the World After & Its Denizens by Noctua Quill

"(Pages from an untitled codex of illustrations recovered from the late Zagan Era, circa 4795, Epoch 341934.) The illuminated lettering around the edges of the pages reads as follows starting from left to right:

[left most vertical] The Abyssal Eden

[bottom horizontal] Mother/Cradle of Sitra Achra

[top and right vertical] The Dreaming Garden of Shaa Edan

Opposing page

[left vertical] The Abyssal Nightmare

[bottom] Edenblight

[right vertical] The Dream of Eden

In the heart of the Eternal City of Shaa Edan, lies the gate to the Dreaming One known as 'Eden', birthmother of our place of darkness, origin point of All That We Know.

When the Fallen found themselves wandering in defeat in the black depths of the Abyss, they knew it would not be long before the corrosive presence of the Slumbering Ones would begin to erode their very being. And so, Lucifer, The First Soul, proved to all why he had been favored so by The Creator, and did bravely besiege unto the Abyssal, Eden, a new world. Eden, who took Its shape of that of a magnificent Garden, was the very one to ask, for its Dreams are composed of the structures of earth and the trees on which it grows. Other Abyssals soon joined Eden's Dream, and together, a new universe sprang forth The First Soul christened "Sitra Achra", the place of darkness, a gesture to defy the place of light, "Korsia". But here were Nine worlds, all different in their personalities and their offerings and their needs, each a result of the collaboration of the somnolent gods. And the Fallen saw that all among the Fallen were disorganized and chaotic, and so the wisest and the most powerful came together to build a hierarchy, one to mock the Heavenly Chorus of the Creator, and prove to them that they were greater for having forsaken the Light of Ein Sof and Its Collective. Thus the Nine Kings crowned themselves to rule over the Nine Circles, starting with King Bael, Master of Things Unseen, Knower of Unknowledge, Ruler of the Lands of Darkness, and Second of the First Be'souled; then there was the Second, King Paimon, the Merchant and Trader of Wants, the Great Shopkeep, and Goldtaker; then the Third King Beleth, Scholar of All Things, Great Lioness of War, Truthsayer and Oracle; The Fourth, King Purson, General Tactician and Cartographer, the Vanguard Explorer, Wayfinder, Hornbearer; The Fifth, King Asmodeus, Engineer of Torment, Devourer of Souls, Chaosforger; The Sixth, King Vine, Ruler of the Blind Depths, Great Navigator of the Void, Stormmaster; The Seventh, King Balam, Antecedent of Alchemy, Librarian of the Forbidden, Lorekeeper; The Eighth, King Zagan; Sovereign of Silence, Ruler of the Glacial and of the Pale Storm, Soundkeeper; and finally the Ninth, the Forgotten One, King Belial, the Invisible, Guardian of the Lost, Outlander. Beneath them were appointed offices of rule; Prince, Duke, Marquis, Earl, Knight, all have their place among the Infernal Court, who govern all Souls of Sitra Achra by birthright, being their founders and custodians.

Alas, these sovereigns are now silenced in no thanks to the Many-Tailed Traitor, their destinies rewritten in the Akashic Terminus, Book of Fate. The thunderous sound of King Purson's Horn unsettled the Slumbering Ones, causing them to stir in their sleep, which affected their Dream of the World After. Whole Verses were overwritten, alterations made to the course of The Great Story. Kings turned on each other like animals, obstreperously bickering over resources and preparations on what was to come. Their Knights fell in defense of them, and soon thereafter, others of their courts. And so it seemed that, one by one, each of the 72 were dismissed from their seats of rule, until only a handful remain, those who now cling to the favor of the False King Joro like burrs. The False King whom I shall not grace with titles of reverence, only those of condemnation as such she is deserving; Usurper, Imposter, Betrayer, Parasite.

In a series of events now known as the Akashic Purge, the first of the Slumbering Ones to stir brought forth a corrupted Dream, and thus sprang the first roots of the plague known as Edenblight, the Nightmare of Eden. The atrocity manifests in the bodies of mortals and the Wild Children, twisting their shape into that which Eden most identifies; trees, tall and alien and not unlike those of the Gates in their size and presence. Formerly, it spread through their Song, the Illusion of Beauty to lure in unsuspecting prey, and through that impregnation of the brain, a Seed will grow and infect the host with feelings of lethargy and false promises of peaceful repose. Once inert, the body will root itself to whatever surface it finds itself on, and henceforth, become one with Eden's Nightmare. The transformation is complete within six Moons, sooner if the infected are left to grasp one another in their despair and their ecstasy, in which they will merge and become one or many, a forest in a perverse Garden of Eden. Not but the Light of Angels and the Touch of a King can halt the spread of the Blight, but the Angel must become as a fixture of the land, and the King must remain diligent in their fight. With Angels in short supply and all Kings absent, the Blight has spread and spreads wider still with conviction anew in the form of Spores, which manifest as a Song in the minds of a host, ever repeating until sung unto others.

Goetia are not immune to the Nightmare. Although more tenacious in their resilience, enough exposure can weaken one's entitled defenses. But once the Song is inside, eventually they will succumb. The touch of a King is said to impede the process, but the world is in desperate need of those to Rule, let alone to Purify."

[feralcreaturescave]

Find Me in Between the Lines

“Would you teach me?” “What?” “To read as you do.”

“There are not a lot of wizards that suffer blindness,” he replied with a chilling intonation. “I suspect you can learn of other things that may be more useful than this.”

“Is it so bad I’d want an excuse to spend more time with you?”

Word count: 3.9k

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader

A/n: I only posted this story on AO3 and Tumblr, if you find this anywhere else- it wasn't me!! Link *here* for the rest of the series this story is from!!!

Ominis Gaunt couldn’t remember a time in his life where he was fond of people. Not even his family made it into his good graces, no matter how much effort he attempted to include them in his personal affairs. The only person he could think of that showed him the true meaning of familial love was his own aunt: Noctua Gaunt. He was told she was a great beauty with wits to match. She shared the pale blond hair of their father’s side and dark eyes that witnessed many of the Gaunt’s dark secrets. In his loneliest moments, Ominis tried to picture what Aunt Noctua would look like. Whenever she spoke to him, he always heard the smile in her voice and the lightness within her heart- a trait that was regrettably limited to only one of the Gaunts. 

The rest of his family had not been so kind. 

Noctua would often send him letters laden with treats local from wherever it was she was visiting; she would ask how he was, what he was up to, what were his current favorite books.. The letters stopped years ago and Ominis was left with silence. It took him weeks to work up the courage to write to his father about her and to his surprise he received a letter back, albeit with a short and curt response. 

‘I do not know.’

He was left to guess what really happened, until a few days ago where an unfortunate event transpired. 

Noctua Gaunt’s remains were laid to rest in a part of the school that hadn’t seen life in thousands of years. In the pursuit of truth did she perish within the confines of Salazar Slytherin’s scriptorium. A fate that Ominis himself had resigned to until Sebastian and his new friend found a way out. 

“Ready?”

“I’m ready.”

A pause, then- “Crucio!”

The details were secured within his mind and rose to perfect clarity whenever he required. He remembered covering his ears as she screamed. He wondered if that’s what his siblings heard? With a sound that horrible- why didn’t they stop on their own accord? It didn’t help that her body was cold when he caught her, breaking her fall. Her speech had been slurred so much that he had a difficult time translating what she was saying. His worst fears had come to surface that day. There were stories of the Cruciatus Curse that haunted him late into the night. Stories that involved people losing their minds had the curse been inflicted on them long enough; that was if they survived the initial bouts of pain. Some had their bodies simply give up due to the duress. 

They were the lucky ones. 

The ones who survive would have their minds reduced to nothing. Not even a single thought would light up their heads, nor inspiration nor recognition could be formed ever again. 

The House of Gaunt was naught but a shadow in his memory with mere ghosts that haunted its walls and called him ‘brother’ or ‘son’. Family was a foreign and strange concept; though of course, that all changed when Sebastian Sallow, and his sister Anne, came into his life. The days he spent with the two of them brought the most warmth to his days and he loved them for it; and despite Sebastian’s callous claims that Ominis didn’t care enough about Anne, he did. Though no cure was worth delving into whatever hole Sebastian found himself in.

A hole I helped him find. The quill in his hand had nearly snapped at the thought that intruded. He hated himself for allowing the secret of the Scriptorium to be leaked, but Sebastian’s friend had spoken such sweet promises and reassurances that he didn’t mind at the time. He was partially grateful that he finally learned the truth about Aunt Noctua and was given a chance to perform a proper send off near the lake where he stacked stones smoothed by the waters atop each other. He left a bouquet of her favorite flowers by the makeshift cairn and inhaled the familiar scent of Narcissus lilies that once resided within his aunt’s perfume bottles. There wasn’t anyone that comforted him the day he held a small ceremony to say farewell to the only blood relative that saw him more than a burden. He told not a soul, not even his closest friend, when he remained in the Undercroft and cried.

He straightened his back against the wooden chair and forced himself to refocus on the task at hand. Turning the page seemed achingly loud and he took more care to flip them apart as he fingered through. There was nothing quite like a location that forced people to be quiet no matter the circumstance. He found solace within one of the tables towards the back. From the cooler ambient, he knew it was one that lay concealed in shadows. This was one of the best spots where few bothered him, that is, until he heard someone walking his way. 

A subtle waft of something floral snuck into his nose. “What are you doing here?” 

“How did you know it was me?” The voice of the new student whispered softly to him. 

“I have to recognize people from something besides looks.” She was quiet and he hastily added: “Don’t look too far into it.”

“How can you recognize Sebastian?”

“His walk. No one else could convincingly brandish that amount of swagger without making a fool of themselves.”

She laughed. “You’re right on that.” Something shifted that sounded a lot like heavily bound books. “May I sit with you?”

“Why?” his question shot out like a spell, quick and with reflex.

“I, er, I was looking for a quiet place.”

“It’s a library,” he responded coolly. “You may find quiet places almost anywhere that aren't occupied.”

There was no response for a few seconds and he imagined she had already left, until she spoke softly again. “I understand. It was nice seeing you, Ominis.” Her footsteps had begun to recede until he spoke up.

“Wait.” The footsteps stopped. “I.. I’m sorry. Please, take a seat.” A chair next to him moved and groaned as weight was introduced upon the cushion. The first time he had met her, he was rather sweet and welcoming. But the instant he learned that Sebastian introduced her to the Undercroft without alerting him had left sour grapes on his tongue. He also heard rumors of Sebastian spending time with Hogwart’s latest mystery out of school grounds. It was enough to send an ugly tendril of insecurity with no small part of jealousy added into the mix. Has Sebastian tired of him already?

“..How are you? I didn’t think I’ve asked yet.”

Ominis scoffed. “I should be the one asking that. Not you.” Her screams surfaced into his mind from memory. “You were out cold. Sebastian and I were nearly hysterical.”

“Is that so?” she chuckled softly. “I don’t remember a thing beyond closing my eyes and drifting off into sleep.”

“Quite so. We haven’t argued like that in a long while.”

“Regardless. I’m grateful to both of you for not leaving me in the Scriptorium.” She paused. “Whose idea was it to sneak me into your dorm?”

“Mine.”

There was stunned silence. “That’s not who I expected,” she admitted shyly. “The Slytherin Common Room is gorgeous, makes me wish I’d been sorted in.. Imagine my surprise when I woke up in bed with Sebastian. We were so close I could count the freckles on his face with ease.” 

“I bet he would have enjoyed that.”

“You think so?”

“He fancies you.”

“I believe it’s more because he needs me for something than that.”

“You’re far too gracious. He’s been beside himself with worry. All he could talk about was how you looked when you sat limp in my arms..” Ominis trailed off, realization striking him. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding him?”

“He’s noticed, has he?”

“Yes. And he won’t stop pestering me about it. I would consider it a personal favor if you talked to him and requested that he stop.”

“I will. I just need some time to think about things.” 

“Very well. I’m sure you and Sebastian have your own secrets.” He knew full well that there was a hint of jealousy in his voice. A part of him hated how quickly Sebastian took to the new fifth-year, while another part of him was merely curious. 

“You and I could have some as well. I’ll confess something..” He heard her clothes rustling and assumed she was making herself more comfortable. “Yes. I’ve been avoiding Sebastian. I’ve been cursed before- by people far worse. But none of them scared me like he did.” She swallowed and continued, breathless. “I know you have to mean it when you cast you-know-what. But it’s a different sort of pain when it comes from someone you care about. I hope that makes sense.”

Ominis knew exactly how that felt. 

“Never mind all of that,” she urged. “I’m more curious about that magic you were using earlier on one of your books.”

He felt hot behind the ears. How long was she standing there to watch him transcribe the letters inside his book into Braille? It was not as if she was working up the courage, surely? “It’s a spell my aunt helped me develop,” he started tentatively. “It changes letters into Braille and vice versa. Since not all of wizard kind suffers from my ailment, it’s rare that I find any book that suits my particular needs.” 

“Your aunt sounds like a spectacular person.”

For the first time in a while, a warm smile lit up his face. “Yes. She was.”

“Would you teach me?”

“What?”

“To read as you do.”

At that moment he didn’t know how to react. Maybe he should be angry? Suspicious, perhaps? He settled for a probing question. “Why?”

“Because, it seems handy.”

“There are not a lot of wizards that suffer blindness,” he replied with a chilling intonation. “I suspect you can learn of other things that may be more useful than this.”

“Is it so bad I’d want an excuse to spend more time with you?”

And just like that, the ice had drained from him. Clearing the fields as the sun did for the frost-bitten valleys come spring. It was replaced with embarrassment and the irresistible urge to make up for the way he’d been treating her. Hesitantly, he slid over a book and began pointing out the alphabet in order. “This single dot means A.. These mean B.. When you put them together..” He appreciated that she was silent as he taught her each letter one-by-one with only a short hum to let him know that she memorized the latest letter down the row.

“This may take some time to get used to,” she whispered.

“It’s not so difficult,” he murmured back. “Just like with any concept you must learn. The symbols come first, then understanding.” Sliding the book over, he felt her arm move up, brushing against his as she passed her fingers to the page. Her movements were quick, unsure, and Ominis sighed. “Start from the left towards the right.”

His patience rescinded and without thinking, he searched until he found her hand. Only then did he realize how cold his skin was compared to hers. Ominis refocused on his task. Taking her through the motions, he showed her how he would usually read. Starting from the top left, skimming all the way to the right before shifting to the beginning of the next sentence. 

There was surprise in her voice. “I don’t believe I can learn that fast.”

“Sebastian tells me otherwise. Now try again.” She mimicked his movements, going down the list with his finger close to hers. 

She spoke as she read along. “The… Go..Goblin R.. Rebellion of… 1612..” 

“You’re doing well.” 

“Only because I’ve read this passage before and memorized it.” 

“Then let’s do something you haven’t memorized.” He took another book entirely and flipped to a random page. His wand tapped the page. “ Intra Intellegentium! Try this- no peeking.” Her fingers found the page and he listened as she struggled to sound out the words. 

“‘H’..h, right? Let’s see. ‘H..o..” She paused, her finger rubbing over a specific set of bump again. “Ominis-”

“Horklumps,” he confirmed after running his hand over it. “‘Horklumps can be found in varying numbers depending on humidity, light, and if someone had perished on the spot they sprouted on.’”

She laughed to herself. “I may need some practice.” 

“Indeed you do.” He let her memorize the alphabet on her own just as curiosity burned through him. “In the Scriptorium, Sebastian mentioned that ‘between the two of us, he was starting to feel left out’. What did he mean?” 

She was quiet for a bit, then- “I won’t lie to you again, Ominis. But that is something I must tell you about another day. I’m sorry. I can’t risk having you involved, too.”

'Too'? Is it another one of Sebastian’s games? “What are you talking about?”

“Ominis,” she insisted. “It isn’t wise that I involve more of my friends than I need to. Trust me. When it’s all over, I’ll tell you. I promise.” He heard her begin to pack up her things. “It was nice spending time with you.”

There was no time to respond as her hurried footsteps told him she was in a rush to head to whatever grand adventure she had waiting. He sat for a moment before packing up his things and departing himself until he stopped and blinked. Ominis felt as if he was hovering in a dream as his thoughts came as fast as someone who tried to run through muck. Did she just call him her ‘friend’? 

***

“What does she look like?”

“Sorry?”

“Your friend. Describe her to me.” 

He heard Sebastian shift his weight as he sat up in bed. “Why do you want to know?” Suspicion had made his voice lower in tone. “You never seemed to care much before.”

“I’m curious.”

“She looks like a girl.”

“Come off it, Sebastian.”

“She has a face.”

“Very well. If you insist on continuing this charade then I’ll ask her myself.”

Ominis pulled the sheets over him and turned his back to Sebastian’s voice.

“Wait-” he heard him sit up more. “Is she talking to you?” Ominis didn’t say anything. “Ominis. Has she said anything to you recently? Why isn’t she talking to me?” When he didn’t reply, he heard Sebastian let out a disgruntled sigh before he too pulled his cover over him. 

The next day, she found him in the library once more. He memorized her hurried footsteps and found it amusing how they never seemed to slow down no matter where she was headed. Their spot was almost exclusive again as they both made themselves comfortable. Only the sounds of light tapping on an ink pot and quills scratching against paper accompanied the peace. Ominis reached forward to where his ink pot was and felt his fingers brush against something warm.

“Sorry,” came a low murmur. 

“It’s alright.” Ominis set his quill down. “I must ask: why do you insist on spending time with me?”

“You’re the only one who doesn’t think to ask me anything besides peace,” she answered and sounded so earnest that he felt as if she was telling the honest truth. 

“Are you leading me to believe that everyone you’ve met has thus asked you for a favor?”

“Yes. I don’t mind lending a helping hand, but it gets exhausting. Sometimes I would like to simply sit down and read and not be bothered-" her voice sounded muffled and he assumed she covered her face with her hands as he only caught tidbits that sounded like 'goblins', 'poachers', 'magic', and 'keepers'. 

“You and I are alike in that regard then. I enjoy my silence.” Ominis thumbed through the pages of his copy of the ‘History of Magic: An Unabridged Guide’. “Actually, I may have to break that accord.”

“What is it?” There was a cautious edge to her voice.

This made him chuckle. “Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to delve into old ruins in search of a family heirloom or fight another troll. I simply wish to know what you look like.”

“I- hm.” She hummed. “I don’t know where to start. Shall I start describing the color of my hair?”

“Here-” he motioned for her to come closer. “This is much more simple and straightforward.” At first he hesitated, but when he felt her warmth come closer, he had a blossoming sense of bravery. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Hold your face out,” he said with such simplicity and calmness that even the tone of his voice surprised him. Reaching forward, he felt around the air until he came into contact with skin. The flesh under his fingers went rigid under his touch and he quickly urged her. “Calm yourself. I simply wish to learn what you look like. I can’t say I fancy picturing myself talking to a mannequin for the entirety of our relationship.”

At his words, she relaxed and let his hands see her face. 

His index trailed upwards to follow the hairline and felt her hair and how soft it felt, next, he accidentally brushed against her ears and didn’t reprimand her when she told him that it tickled. Her eyelashes tickled him back in revenge when he passed over her eye to the bridge of her nose to her other eye. His palm lay flat on her cheek with the rest of his fingers stopping there to let the thumb go on without them. Next came the tip of her nose before going down to press against her lips. His heart seemed to catch in his throat when his thumb grazed her bottom lip. For a second he believed that she pushed her lips against his finger and left a kiss there, but both of them said nothing to each other in that moment nor the one after. Ominis pulled back, a silent ‘thank you’ was uttered under his breath. 

“Do you know what you look like?”

“I haven’t had the pleasure,” he stated curtly.

“May I do you the honor of describing you, then?”

“You may try.”

The sound of scraping wood grated his ears as her chair was being pushed closer to his. A presence was more noticeable at his side where she leaned in to get a better look. She hummed, tapping her fingers against the wood and seemed to take what felt like ages to decide where to attack first.

“You are very handsome,” she concluded. 

Ominis felt he would sputter his words and kept his mouth clamped shut instead. “Your skin is pale. There are moles here-” her finger traced over his face and tapped where the marks were, “-here and here.” She traced down the bridge of his nose. “A pointed tip, and sharp lips that seem to always be fixed into a frown. You truly do have an air of austerity about you.”

“I do not-”

“Shh.”

The finger was placed against his lips and remained there until she was sure he wouldn’t open them again. She traced along his jaw now and in that moment he felt what she must have when he was examining her face. For lack of better description, he felt naked beneath her scrutinizing gaze. 

“Rather sharp jaw,” he heard the frown in her voice. “It seems you were blessed with looks at birth. Are you aware of what the other Gaunts look like?”

“I’m told my family possesses some sort of allure. Mother always praised my older siblings on how handsome they were.”

“It’s an apt description. You are.” The bell tower announced the time somewhere in the far distance, a sound that was followed by a chair scraping against wood. Warmth left his face like the sun retreating behind a large mountainside. “I’ve got to go. I’ve an engagement I must hurry to.”

“I wasn’t aware you and Sebastian had something planned today.”

“Because we don’t. It’s.." she hesitated. "Complicated.” Her finger seemed to tap along the wood of the desk in a nervously paced rhythm. 

“Will you keep another secret for me?”

“I suppose I can. What is it?”

“I’m meeting a goblin. He has information I need and working with him might prove beneficial. Just don’t tell Sebastian this yet.”

“I shan’t, but-” He raised his brows. “You’re aware he’s not overly fond of goblins after what happened to Anne, correct?”

“Yes, I know. I will tell him in time, just not now. I fear his reaction may be a bit too much to handle at the moment.” She sighed heavily. “Still, it feels good to get that off my chest. Thank you for listening. You’re a good friend, Ominis. We should spend more time together.” With that, he heard her take off towards the front of the library. 

***

I hope my owl finds you well. I’ve transformed the letters into Braille and hope with sincerity that you cannot make sense of it. Should you ever find yourself in dire need of a reading partner, find comfort with the knowledge that you may ask me. 

It’s also my displeasure to report that the time I spent with you in the library was not as bad as I previously imagined and that I do not mind repeating the experience. 

Sincerely, 

Ominis Gaunt

[keeperofquestions]

Royal Steward Dudephelon Noctua on the topic of the arranged marriage practices of the Ars Goetia.

"I think what many have missed about this is that it is a necessary evil. The purpose of the Ars Goetia is to serve the Morningstar by monitoring the mortal world and see to the arranging of souls through deals with mortals in exchange for fulfilling their desires. Have they not noticed that when mankind speaks of summoning demons to fulfill their wishes and sell their souls, we are those demons?

"The marriages are not just about power or politics or tradition. They are about safeguarding the grimoires and ensuring a unified body loyal to the crown maintains and regulates their use. Most other hellborn do not possess the magical talent and the sinners cannot be trusted with such things. To that end our strata must be maintained strictly.

"This is why the Kings of the Ars Goetia and their associated heirarchies exist at all. Without the grimoires we are purposeless. With them, we are vital to Hell's well being and we have a duty to ensure their continued proper use and safekeeping. Proper heirs are needed for this and thus we cannot wait for the whims of love to give us these by chance.

"However, it comes to little surprise the practice is... unpopular, even among our own. Matches do not always consider compatibility. Our numbers are vast but the limited number of kings and their descendants means our options are limited. Once the necessary heirs are produced there is little incentive to do aught else but devolve into dynasticism and politics to whittle away eternity and we forget our purpose. Those of us, well... like me, who do genuinely dream of love and marrying one day are overlooked or used as leftover spare pieces for the games of politics. Most recent scandals have shown the disastrous effects of such lack of foresight.

"I admit I have personally grown to detest the practice on a personal level due to what it has become, but I can offer no alternative nor do I have the authority to speak of it; perhaps I am simply embittered. I have no choice but to stand with tradition due to understanding its purpose. Sometimes I feel I am one of the few who does- or cares.

"What will become of the Ars Goetia at this rate of change in attitudes? Will we remain relevant? Will the disgruntled masses be allowed their satisfaction against their betters if we are deemed to be expendable? What of the grimoires and their holders? There are so many questions to be answered. I hope the answers do not spell our doom."

Duedephelon set the quill down and hovered the candle over the long parchment while he waited for it to dry. He only hoped getting his thoughts out wouldn't be discovered.

[roohuh]

His bedroom.

Part 15 of Obliviate

Ominis x MC

Summary: you and Sebastian search Ominis room for clues as to his whereabouts

Warnings: end game spoilers!!

Having found nothing more than Ominis discarded text book in the common room, you and Sebastian decide to search their room for anything that could be of help. Walking into the room you take a good look around clutching Ominis’ wand in your hands. You had never been in the boys room to your memory. Not being allowed to have the opposite gender in your room, you always had just went to the Undercroft if you needed privacy. Softly sitting on the bed you assume has to be Ominis', it being the only made bed in the room. You notice something under Ominis pillow and wonder if it would be too invasive to investigate the box you are looking for clues anyways and this could be a clue. Curiosity out ways your scruples and you slide the small back box from the pillow. You glance over at Sebastian who was looking through a trunk of letters trying to find one he thought may have Ominis home address. You open the box peering in at the beautifully delicate antique ring adorned with an oddly shaped stone.

“Accio!” Sebastian pulls the box from your hands shaking his head “You weren’t supposed to see that!” He stuffs it in his pocket.

“Was that?”

“Don’t ruin the surprise, forget you saw that and look for real clues you dummy.” Sebastian continues to shuffle through old letters in vain as you search Ominis desk. Finding nothing notable, just the regular school supplies all neatly sorted into specific places. You laugh noting the large jar of candy sat next to his ink and quill. Then you open his letterbox and see your handwriting. It is the letter Ominis saved the day he gave you the stack. Gently you open the envelope and read the contents of the letter.

Ominis,

If you are asking what I would say if you asked me to marry you I would reply that you sir are trying to cheat and you must ask me yourself. But I would say that if you were to ask you would like my answer.

-MC

Blushing you go to put the letter back in the box but as you do you spot another letter this one looks much older. The letter read:

My Dearest Ominis,

I miss you so but soon I shall be returning to see you! I just have to investigate something at the school I used to attend. Soon you shall get your first wand and be sorted yourself. You will love Hogwarts. It is a wonderful place. The ring I have enclosed is a gift for you to give you courage until I return. I remember how much you loved to sit and fiddle with it last time I visited you.

Love Aunt Noctua

Meticulously putting the letter back in the letterbox you close the lid feeling slightly embarrassed of your shameless snooping. The croak of Ominis’ toad beings your attention to the small round animal.

“There there. We shall find your master soon do not worry. ” You say tossing a worm into his enclosure incase he is hungry. Feeling frustration from your helplessness you turn to Sebastian,

“This is getting us nowhere.”

“Calm down, we are going to figure this out.” He tries to soothe, never taking his eyes off his task.

“This is taking too long. Every second we spend here they could be torturing him there!”

“What do you want me to do MC?” Sebastian snaps, tossing the letters back into the trunk.

“I am going to talk to his brother! He knows where Ominis is and I know what has to be done to retrieve him.”

“Ominis would never forgive me if I let you do that. And you will never forgive yourself if you do what you are implying.”

“You forget Sebastian. I killed Ranrok and Rookwood. I am capable of doing what needs to be done.”

“Those were self defense! They attacked you. This is different. You would be marching into a man’s home killing him in cold blood. You once tried to talk me out of dabbling in the dark arts do not make the same mistake you warned against .”

“Because I was too slow, Rookwood cursed Anne. Because I couldn’t do what had to be done Ranrok Killed the man from the ministry, Lodgok, and Professor Fig. I am not about to let Ominis join the list of people who died because I couldn’t save them.” You shake your head fighting the tears and turn to leave.

“Wait… I’m going with you. We will bring our Ominis home together. And I swear if that creep lays a hand on you I will kill him.”

[goetiiaprince]

To the desk of Prince Stolas Ars Goetia:

Your Grace,

It has come to the attention of High Marquis Andrealphus Ars Goetia that you have acquired and subsequently consumed an undue quantity of His Grace's tea stores during your visits. While his brother-in-law you may be, such behavior is unfit of nobility and as such restitution must be demanded.

As his steward it has fallen upon my duties to ensure that these debts are settled. Below is an itemized list of of the missing stores and their dues. No set time has been yet determined but the duties of nobility and filial piety demand a reasonable pace be brought.

Da-Hong Pao tea (1/2 pound) - $272,160

Yellow Gold tea (1/4 pound) - $884.50

Silver Tips Imperial tea (4 pounds) - $3,356

Premium Black tea (10 pound) - $70

Please respond with all due haste.

Duedephelon Noctua Royal Steward of His Highness, Marquis Andrealphus

((Courtesy of @a-hell-of-a-time and the Frozen Court verse.))

THE AUDACITY with this letter! He would not blame Duedephelon of course, never tragically shoot the messenger. He knew Andrealphus was petty, and may even simply be putting this much effort into a LIST because it was HIM. But this felt like an entirely new level. . . . Nevermind the fact that he had originally had every intention of gifting the Marquis with a few exquisite blends for the troubles he caused, not that he would ever admit to such to any willing or otherwise ears! An irritated chittering leaves Stolas' beak, finger raking down the list. Infuriating. There was no way he consumed this amount of his tea! Though. . . . truth be told, he wasn't exactly certain he hadn't either. Every visit, prompted or otherwise, was a blur. He seats himself behind the desk, dipping his quill into ink. The scratch of metal against paper soothes him. Stolas swiftly pens a response.

To A Sir Duedephelon Noctua,

I understand that this is a time sensitive matter, and restitutions are being sought. The Marquis certainly has a well curated variety of blends, far more taste than I ever expected he might have. He continues to surprise me! I implore you visit sometime to try a few of my favorite aromatic wines, or the very teas I keep in stock. Then again, I imagine it might upset His Most Illustrious & Frigidness. Tell him not to get his feathers in a fluff. I'll brew up a pot eventually. When Hell freezes over - HAH! I'm such a hoot!

Flown to you on soft winds, Prince Stolas Ars Goetia.

@keeperofquestions & @a-hell-of-a-time

[skampi835]

Serpent’s Lullaby - 01 - Letters for the Void

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy

Language: english

Genre: Romantic Drama

Style within this chapter: hurt & comfort

Warnings: spoiler

Word Count within this chapter: 2.102

Summary -- Next Chapter

Link to Ao3

Link to fanfiktion.de (original german version)

With his wand raised in his right hand, he sat hunched over a simple, small wooden table. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as his clouded, steel-blue gaze was directed towards the general direction of the scratching quill on the parchment in front of him. The quill paused, dipped its sharpened end into an open inkwell that was also on the table, and then resumed its movements on the paper, scratching away.

Omnius Gaunt was unable to see the words he was writing, as he is blind. Writing was not a skill he necessarily needed for his livelihood, but he had painstakingly taught himself for his own sake. It was a difficult process, as the cryptic shapes of letters had been unknown to him for a very long time. How could he have known them when his world was mostly shrouded in darkness?

It was thanks to his favorite aunt Noctua that Ominis had received a rough idea of the letters. The cosmopolitan Noctua, who had never scolded him for his initial, shaky attempts that, according to her, resembled the writing of a four-year-old. Instead, she had helped her blind nephew find a magical way to cleanly put letters on paper.

His loving aunt Noctua, who, as Ominis painfully learned last year, no longer be living. That had certainly been the case for a very long time.

Ominis attentively listened to the scratching of the feather that he directed over the parchment with his wand. With a connecting spell, it wrote the words he was thinking on the paper, which demanded his full concentration. In between, he also had to remember to dip the feather back into the inkwell without actively thinking about it. Otherwise, ‘inkwell’ would be written in every other line.

To the almost meditative sound of the scratching quill, initial dull sounds from the adjacent room of the small house were added. Creaking furniture, accompanied by a quiet yawn and shortly thereafter shuffling footsteps.

Ominis continued to focus on his letter, which he would not need much more time to complete. Meanwhile, his best friend announced his presence with another yawn after the door to the bedroom had been opened. Shuffling, unmotivated steps could be heard, stopping roughly at the level of the kitchen counter, interrupted by a soft sniffing sound. Ominis carefully floated the pen into the inkwell for a short break, so as not to accidentally ruin his almost finished work. »That's coffee you're smelling, Sebastian. I brewed some. It should be on the stove.«

A short moment passed as Sebastian looked around, seemingly surprised or puzzled. »How long have you been awake, Ominis? It's still very early.«

»For a while,« Ominis replied, turning his head vaguely in the direction where he heard Sebastian's voice. »I couldn't sleep. Did I wake you?«

»No,« Sebastian immediately replied. Unlike other witches or wizards who would often just shake their head and hastily add the word, embarrassed, since a blind person couldn't see it.

Ominis heard the kitchen cabinet door open and shortly after, Sebastian probably placing a ceramic mug on the kitchen counter. Meanwhile, he tapped his wand towards the feather, causing the connection spell to lift it from the parchment. It hovered above and then landed back onto the page, continuing to scratch away as if it had been waiting for this moment to continue its work.

As Sebastian poured the liquid into his cup, Ominis finished his letter. Shortly thereafter, in addition to the scratching of the quill, he heard the soft rustling of fabric and felt the warmth that settled on his hands. Apparently, Sebastian had opened the curtains at the windows to let in the daylight of a beginning summer day. An action that Ominis generally saw no need for, which is why he hadn't thought of it. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the warmth. »It's so convenient that you got the black wake-up potion,« Sebastian sighed contentedly, pushing the chair to the left of his friend back to take a seat on it.

Ominis didn't respond immediately. Only after he had finished the letter, carefully set aside the quill and freed it from his spell did he respond slightly sarcastically: »There must be some advantages to carrying that family name.«

Sebastian sipped quietly from his cup. There was a long moment when the two boys fell silent. Ominis was wondering what was on his friend's mind when Sebastian verbalized his thoughts with audible surprise: »Why are you writing a letter to Carol?«

»That's just how I felt,« Ominis replied, shrugging his shoulders and lifting the corners of his mouth. Unfortunately, Sebastian knew him too well to believe that he did something on a whim. So after a few seconds, Ominis added, »I wanted to remind her of your invitation. After all, you offered her to come to Feldcroft before the summer break.«

Plus, Ominis believed that it would do them both good if Carol accepted the invitation.

Sebastian's contemptuous snort confirmed Ominis' suspicion that he had done well to keep the last thought to himself. »That was four weeks ago,« grumbled his friend irritably.

Ominis took his time to lay his wand in front of him. At the moment, he didn't need it to get a sense of his surroundings and 'see’ as he did, which was a completely different experience than that of other witches and wizards. It was even a sensory impression that he found to be disturbing at this time. »Right. That means the holidays won't be over for another two weeks,« he said innocently.

His almost innocent remark seemed to bother Sebastian, who did not immediately respond as he usually would have. Instead, he let out a disapproving breath and slurped audibly at his hot beverage. Probably to formulate his argument clearly, he took a moment to collect his thoughts. »If Carol hasn't contacted me yet, then she doesn't need to. I mean, she's letting me down when she knows I'm looking for Anne. Tsk... such great friend.«

Ominis furrowed his eyebrows at the negative tone and tilted his head slightly to the side, causing his milky, steel-blue gaze to unfortunately pass right by Sebastian. »Yes, she is, Sebastian,« he spoke very diplomatically, to his own surprise. »You've never had such a great friend, to be honest. Because without Carol, you certainly wouldn't be here now.«

His serious tone made Sebastian pause to think, or at least to fall silent. But before he could come up with his next argument, Ominis decided to nip it in the bud by continuing in a factual manner: »Not everyone has such a strained relationship with their family, like you or I. Plus, Carol really needed the distance from all of that. You know what happened last year and how she was involuntarily dragged into everything. Honestly, I probably wouldn't have even passed a single O.W.L. under those circumstances.«

Ominis wasn't sure if he had won the debate with that, so he waited and listened for any suppressed negative sound. Instead, he heard a long, tired sigh. »Yeah...« began Sebastian, sounding exhausted, and sighed again. »Yes, you're right, Ominis. And to make matters worse, I've even gone and added to it. I'm sorry...«

»I know,« Ominis said in a reconciliatory tone, hoping his friend could sense it. »I know you feel immensely sorry for what you did, Sebastian. Plus, you are under immense stress because of the search for Anne. I can't imagine how it feels to lose a beloved family member in such a way. But I'm also sure that Anne is doing well. She needs distance, especially from you. What you did--«

»Was not without consequences,« Sebastian interrupted him mid-sentence. Well, that was one way to describe it, even though Ominis certainly wouldn't have considered that choice of words. Secretly, he wondered if it really contributed positively to Sebastian's development if he, like his friend, romanticized his deed.

It was true that Sebastian hadn't uttered a single Unforgivable Curse since then, but it was also about the murder of his own uncle. But who was he to judge Sebastian? Especially him, who himself had tortured a Muggle into unconsciousness with the Cruciatus Curse just so he wouldn't become a victim of it again?

Sebastian, suddenly, asked, »Do you even know where she lives?« and pulled Ominis' gloomy thoughts back to the pleasant present before they could get even more tangled. He also noticed that he must have been sitting crooked on the chair and slowly straightened himself up while orienting himself on the edge of the table.

Ominis' facial features wrinkled slightly as he contemplated the question Sebastian had just posed. Silently, he brought his right hand to his forehead, and his eyebrows raised with concern. »No,« he eventually confessed, pressing his lips together.

»You're writing a letter and you don't even know her address?« Sebastian's skeptical response was more than understandable. How could Ominis, of all people, have overlooked such a detail in the context of everything else?

»I don't regularly exchange addresses with others to cheerfully maintain pen pal relationships,« Ominis said bitterly.

Sebastian nodded in agreement with a friendly tone in his voice before taking another sip of his coffee. Now it was Ominis who sighed and lowered his head, staring at the parchment without really seeing it. He slumped his shoulders. All the effort and concentration he had put into writing the letter had been in vain. Ominis was annoyed that he hadn't realized this problem with exchanging correspondence earlier.

»Maybe she'll still come after all?« Sebastian suggested. His change of heart regarding Carol's presence in Feldcroft was probably due to the dejection that Ominis was unwittingly expressing all too clearly. It was Sebastian's charming way of making up for his outburst about their mutual friend and cheering up Ominis. And Ominis saw no reason not to respond to it, so he replied somewhat wearily, »Yes, maybe.«

»May I read the letter?« Sebastian asked, to keep the conversation flowing. Ominis was glad for it, as he had been dwelling on gloomy thoughts enough in the past few weeks. »Of course, if you can read it. I haven't written in over four weeks, so the handwriting might seem a bit unclear.«

The parchment was softly rustled across the wooden table as Sebastian turned the letter to be able to read it. He quietly set down his mostly empty mug and Ominis noticed him leaning over the table. »You worry too much, Ominis. Granted, it's not the prettiest handwriting...,« Sebastian explained with a hint of a grin in his voice, which even Ominis found highly infectious.

»Besides that, it's simply amazing that you taught yourself to write in this way,« Sebastian continued.

»I had no choice. It was necessary for the O.W.L. exams,« Ominis explained with a modest smile. »Plus, it's something that gives me some independence in my life.«

»Sometimes I forget that you're blind,« Sebastian said, softly chuckling with a hint of appreciation in his voice. It was a tone of voice that Ominis rarely heard when people spoke about him.

*****

Dear Carol,  

I hope you are enjoying a delightful summer holiday.  

Sebastian has taken me back in at Feldcroft. He and I have endeavored to locate Anne and establish communication with her, but unfortunately, to no avail. I can only hope that she is well and will reconnect with us when the time is right.  

Summers in Feldcroft are scorching and oftentimes arid. The atmosphere is thick and swollen, and the scent of desiccated heather and rye fills the air.  

I believe I have incurred a sunburn, though Sebastian refrains from commenting on it. Nevertheless, the uncomfortable, parched, and fervid sensation on my face speaks for itself. I wonder if I have acquired a semblance of color? Someone once told me that I have a very fair complexion.  

Sebastian is making strides in tempering his ambition and employing his intellect more frequently, although I must occasionally remind him of its existence.  

How are you faring? Are you with your family? I envision you taking a respite and embarking on a journey to a summer residence with your loved ones.  

By the way, Sebastian's invitation remains open. Therefore, if you wish to join us at Feldcroft for the remainder of the holiday, even if only for a few days, you are most welcome. We would be overjoyed to have you.  

If not, then we shall see each other again at Hogwarts.  

Perhaps you will consider replying? I believe you are familiar with Sebastian's address, but if not, I shall inscribe it upon the envelope.  

Warm regards, 

Ominis Gaunt  

[starglitterz]

cynosure. (ix)

─── chapter 9 ! ~ i need a vacation

summary; you and xiao are genmates under the famed streamer company genshin impact. the chemistry between the two of you is undeniable, and your fanbases absolutely love your collaborations. but when you both start meeting up offline more and more, your connection starts to deepen past just harmless flirting and playful banter. with these real feelings starting to affect both your job and reputation online, how will you two react when your relationship becomes the internet’s cynosure?

a/n: QUILL FINALLY UPDATES CYNOSURE REAL NOT CLICKBAIT??? anyways i lowk missed writing cynosure sm and i finally made some time for it! thank you all for being so patient w me, i hope you enjoy this chapter <3 (also if the formatting is ugly it's bc i reached image limit LOL)

as always, reading order is;

1 2

3 4

warnings; swearing

previous.┃masterlist.┃next.

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

this chapter is dedicated to curse !! (@hqrbinger) thank u sm for ur super cute and funny reblogs when u were binge reading cynosure, reading them made me smile tons and actually gave me motivation to finish this chapter hehe <3 ily!

twitter !

groupchat 1 !

groupchat 2 !

a/n; no its 2am im too tired for this HHWJDKAKE but pls rb w fun comments i love reading them :> ALSO im literally so excited for the rest of cynosure aAAHHH it should be awesome if everything goes according to plan,,, fun fact hu tao, xiao and yanfei were supposed to have a rational discussion (or so i drafted) but then it ended up becoming this and personally i prefer this LOL OK gn ily all mwah

taglist; @noirkkat @bookuya @ohmykazuha @glazelilyy @oreoz-unfortunately @tiny-aroace @xiaophobic @test-tube @jiinghe @storytravelled @mirikusashes @ben6ett @oliviasslut @bluexiao @lunachelly @aelatus @mimion @akiiyukii @angelhxneyy @give-xiao-almond-tofu @abyssheart-deactivated20220122 @xuanya @normalisthenewnorm @viagiraffe @fuhuashandholder @astersg4rden @nachotrash @childe-support @cynokine @axerrri @ventirain @kait-is-always-late @hushyouu @celestair @rim0na @indecisivehusky @nurserinnn @ariesreii @saving-for-xiao @hellokittykuroo @auradragon199 @xiaoszn @liarchive @almondoufu @berryqueue @noctua-koi @yunaholics @yoimimi @http-mewchuu

usernames in bold cannot be tagged. please send an ask if you'd like to be added / removed / changed your url ! pt 2 of the taglist will be tagged in an rb after i wake up :)

general masterlist.

© starglitterz 2022. do not repost or modify in any way.

[2018-01-20]

OMVKWKFKWKFKS HI BOO for ur prompt list can i please req gojo w 'just shut up and kiss me already' I AM SO DOWN BAD FOR THIS MAN 😭

but anyways! how are you??? ur blog is so cute omg (unsurprisingly), i hope ur having a great time running it !! :D <3

okay i was wrong @noctua-koi QUILL IS ALSO A GOJO KISSER!! DOWN BAD,,, also im doing gr8 ehe, thank uu quill c: i hope you are doin good too!!

"just shut up and kiss me already." gojo + gn!reader

gojo is the most irritating person you know. or rather, the only irritating person you know.

you would think that someone who craves physical touch and affection on an hourly basis would listen immediately when you ask for a simple kiss, but gojo thrives on teasing you with the most annoyingly amused look on his face. he doesn't hold back on patting your head and cooing, "aww, you want to kiss the gojo satoru?"

you immediately raise your hand to catch gojo's wrist (while ignoring the fact that his hand is attractively bigger than yours) to stop him from teasing you further. you exasperatedly huff with a pointed glare, "if you don't wanna kiss me then just say so."

"who said i didn't?" he grinned, not bothering to wrestle out of your hold as his other hand trailed to casually trace the shape of your jaw. you internally cursed yourself for instantaneously melting into his touch. "i'm just relishing in the nice feeling of you wanting to kiss me."

the butterflies in your stomach can't help but flutter once again as gojo tweaks your nose with a chuckle, pinching the tip between two of his fingers as you furrow your eyebrows at him. his smile widens a bit more when you don't try to move out his hold either.

pretending like you aren't flustered by his actions, you stubbornly avert your gaze, even if they eventually trail back to take a look at his infuriatingly pretty eyes.

finally, you mutter, "you talk too much." gojo just leans down and moves closer to you as you accept your defeat. "just... shut up and kiss me already."

[sitraachranovel]

An excerpt from the book; A History of the World After & Its Denizens by Noctua Quill

"(Pages from an untitled codex of illustrations recovered from the late Zagan Era, circa 4795, Epoch 341934.) The illuminated lettering around the edges of the pages reads as follows starting from left to right:

[left most vertical] The Patron Devil of Thieves

[top horizontal] Master of Ephemeral Arts

[right vertical] The Many-Tailed Thief

Opposing page

[right most verticle] "Materials For Summoning:

A Few Gold Coins

Three Bottles of Fine Wine

One Book of Stories

Nine Drops of [the Summoner's] Blood

[bottom left] BEWARE. IMPORTANT UNIQUE GLYPHS.

(These are unique glyphs used in the summoning of Lord Valefar. Each Goetic has their own set that must be included in the Summoning Circle otherwise they either may not appear or will appear but be not contained to the circle, which, in many cases, would be undesirable, let alone fatal, to the summoner. The meaning of some of these symbols have been long forgotten, being used only in these instances, but Valefar's, loosely translated, reads: "No Tricks, No Trade". Thereby binding the Patron Devil of Thieves and preventing him from conjuring any illusions or making attempts at résistance. Not mentioned here for unknown reasons, is that all Summoning Circles must be drawn in a radius of 2 or more meters. It should provide sufficient space for the Demon to remain comfortably seated.)

[right bottom] (Valefar's Summoning Circle. These must include the aforementioned glyphs as well as the Demon's Sigil. The blue markings invite the summoner to "place offering here". Thus, the objects mentioned in the above list of summoning materials will be placed in the designated spots. The tilt to the circle is important as mathematics have as much significance to the Goetia as words. These coordinates designate that Demon's unique position in the universe - essentially a tele-wire number. Misplacing the Circle can result in the absence of the Demon's manifestation.)

The small text is Ingris-Lorician and reads as follows:

"Duke Valefar retained his title of Third among Twenty-Three Dukes for as long as anyone can remember. Secretkeeper to Her Royal Highness, King Beleth of the Third Circle, he acted as a trusted advisor and loyal consort for many hundreds of years.

Before his death, Lord Valefar was renowned for his mastery of illusion and thievery, and was unmatched in his ability to shapeshift. His unique talents among the Goetia had him simultaneously respected and cautiously regarded despite his gregarious nature. He was otherwise a known trickster and miscreant, who relished in sowing chaos among the Court.

This Reputation extended to those outside of the Goetia, and well into the World Before, where those who wished to summon him would have done so expecting a blessing of charisma or good fortune in whatever devious exploits they intended. Otherwise, Lord Valefar was often called upon in matters of thievery, charlantry, or reconnaissance, and was, perhaps somewhat paradoxically, respected for his penchant for fairness in all dealings. However, it was the convalescence of these qualities that in turn ultimately led to his downfall.

Regarded as the catalyst for the event now know as the "Akashic Purge", Duke Valefar accomplished this by besting Fifth King Purson in a bet that he could steal his Horn within three days. Having done so, the pompous Duke decided to announce his success by blowing the instrument, which has the power to herald the End of Days. While he was stopped before the call could be completed, the damage had been done, and for his crime he was to be drawn and quartered. His Nine Tails, source of his power, were excised from him and distributed among the Eight remaining Kings by King Beleth Herself as a sign of solidarity against the events that were to come.

The whereabouts of Lord Valefar's Tails, and whether their Power was used at any point, remains unknown. For his disgrace, his name was to be stricken from the Infernal Court, his seat left vacant, albeit conditions resulting from the Purge have instead, made him something of a folkloric figure in the four hundred years following."

(Notice that the amount of time used to calculate Valefar's absence is expressed via the human calendar. While the author of the text is unknown, this gives an inherent clue as to their identity.)

What this text does not describe is King Beleth's enabling of Lord Valefar's antics, and it is of this Scholar's firm belief, that in doing so, she may have inadvertently coaxed these events into place. Not to speak ill of Her Diligence, but the King's soft spot for her Secretkeeper was plain for all to see, and was something she had been repeatedly cautioned against, as she had become somewhat over-reliant on his more distinct talents in order to compete with the egos of the other Kings. Her Majesty was as much the "Truthteller" as she was the "Truthkeeper". Her inability to lie coincided with her ability to detect lies in all things said and all gestures performed. Valefar's powers were futile to her discerning eye, but less so to others. She was wise for keeping him close, but in the opinion of this Scholar, foolish for being so lenient on him and allowing him to enjoy immunity for his crimes against others up until his own hubris cost her everything. In truth, it was remarkable that she was not subject to the same fate by the other Kings even with her gesture of sacrificing her consort's body in the hopes that they may aid in the mitigation of the coming disasters. One can only hope that the King's gift of foresight extended to anticipating the nature of her subject, and that her willful ignorance bore consequences she was willing to accept in order to indulge in his affection. Alas. Duke Valefar would have most likely become amused at the overall futility of his sacrifice. Irony being a favorite form of comedy. And his undying love for his King would doubtless hinder any compulsions of vengeance or violence, the Duke being as helpless to forgive those he loves as Her Majesty.

What might be seen as a source of vexation for many, Lord Valefar almost always interpreted as a challenge to enjoy, much to the dismay of those around him. However, even should his Soul find its way back from the World Before, he would surely find the reunification of his lost parts a daunting task. This assuming that there will even be a world to which he may return as the Purge continues onward, a fact which the mortal population seems to remain blissfully ignorant or, altogether, uncaring.

[keeperofquestions]

From Duedephelon's Private Journal - On Personal Identity

There is a series of harsh scrawling of "WHO?"s and "WHY?"s all over several pages, and in one case it was enough to stain through with ink and have the quill tear through a side of the sheet. Once the pages become legible again there is a shaky handwriting getting neater as the writing goes on.

I am Duedephelon Noctua. Royal Steward of the Ars Goetia, Castellan of Castle Noctua, Keeper of the Sigils of Minerva.

That is what I am. That is what I am. That is what I am.

I do not know my family. I do not know my past. I do not know how I was raised or by whom or how or when or why I was taught the things I was. I do not know why I can read sheet music. I do not know why I can use a sword. I do not know where my scars from from. I do not know why I am so afraid of water. I do not know why I understand jewlery and its craft. I do not know why I was put here. I do not know why I am the only one who is here. I do not know why no one else has ever been able to find any answers.

What does this mean for me? What does this mean for WHO I am? What will I do if I have none to serve? What will I do if restoring this castle back to functionality is impossible? What will I do if I am forever to be chained to my roles but never be recognized for it? Even among those I would consider friends or colleagues I am an anomalous stranger; but that is simply my place in the world.

I cannot truly commiserate with my fellow Ars Goetia. I have no family to mark my pride for, no titles to bear, no prospects of higher station through marriage or promotion for I have nothing of worth to offer those who would provide it. I am too low in station to have any peers and now I have no power to exercise what little remains to me. Simply BEING Ars Goetia is all I have at this point and it is a thin thread keeping me connected to the rest of my kind. There have been those who have assured me I have my place and not to consider the technicalities of my station overmuch, but even if they wish to ignore the realities of their station, these have all come from those much higher than I. They have far more standing and backing should the worst befall them. I do not.

Nor can I simply be among the lessers of Hell. Setting side the situation of anti-goetia sentiment rife among the lower classes and whether it is earned or no, we are fundamentally different. Other hellborn do not share the eternal lives that we goetia do and sinners intentionally come from humanity's worst who on average will care little for what we value. Even among those I have grown to get along with, there is always that fundamental fact that we are different. That cannot change. We will never understand one another in the truest sense.

The idea that I simply do not know what my life is or what it will become because of what I have lost utterly is a reality I have often tried to ignore. I want to pretend it does not matter, that my duty is enough. My place is enough. I cannot comprehend my life without this purpose anymore- if I ever could. If I must fight to retain my place and recognition for it, then I will do so. My life has been one bred and trained for service and service requires sacrifice.

What I want does not matter- and yet I keep coming back to asking myself that. The one question I wish to put out of my mind. Why? Why? Why? Why do I care!? Why!? Why!? Why!? Why!? IT SHOULD NOT MATTER! WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!?

The writing gets more frantic and scrawling continues into the next few pages again.