Temple Recovery Part 2

[wrecking_yard]

As soon as we reach the threshold of the temple sanctum, it's like walking into an electric wall; I'm following the senior priestess, gritting my teeth and trying to push through the surprise pain and vertigo, but only manage a couple steps before I falter and end up stumbling to my knees. 

I've been in sacred places before.  The scars ache a little and that's it.  This is entirely new - like they're being burned into my flesh anew. 

"-never seen that happen before!"

The vertigo hasn't stopped, but I've managed to get bearings enough to not completely white out and to make out what's being said around me again; Pike and the senior priestess are on either side to steady me, the human priestess kneeling. 

"I don't know either - it's... it's...."  Pike trails off and it sounds like something just occurred to her.  "Percy, I need you to take off your shirt."

 I manage a wobbly look of confusion and discomfort directed at Pike. 

"I know, I know, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, I just - think I know part of what's wrong." 

It takes a bit of fumbling to get the vest off, and Pike ends up helping with the shirt.  The senior priestess is minding that I don't fall over through all this, confused until I get the shirt off one shoulder.

"Merciful Dawnflower…"

It feels like there should be visible burns around the old eldritch scars; something definitely feels wrong with them, and from the sharp inhale Pike gives, it's apparently visible to basic detection magics. 

"Oh.  That's not good."  Pike starts swearing softly under her breath.  "Fuck, I knew it, fuck - these are so much worse than Grog's-"

I manage to get sort-of sitting on the floor just inside the sanctum, while the elder priestess is staring between Pike and my mess of eldritch carved-in scars; I'm just managing a sideways glance her way. 

"It's - some of them look like Grog's from that lich, but - fuck, this is awful." 

The elder priestess starts carefully helping me to my feet to get me out of the sanctum, clearly bracing to support most of my weight where I'm failing to do so.  "How long has this been there?" 

"Since I was .... fifteen?  Sixteen?"  My voice is thin and wobbly; I'm barely managing to answer.  "Delilah was working on it the whole time until I escaped...."  Months, at least. 

"Yeah, and it looks like your asshole buddy made himself at home with'em."  Pike's trying to help mind my balance as best she can. 

"Lovely."  I manage to catch my breath once we're back in the hallway.  The older priestess pulls me aside into some sort of small sitting room, ushering me to a padded chair before she carefully takes her hands away, checking that I'm not going to fall over again.  "What is it?  She never was keen on explaining what she was doing to me."   I shift, uncomfortable; I'm not used to having those scars exposed like this.  "Not that I'd remember if she did." 

The priestess inhales deeply.  "I need to check some things to answer for sure, but it looks like you were being prepared for some powerful evil - as a vessel, a thrall, or both." 

"Ah."   I lean back into the chair, still light headed.  "That makes sense.  I know I heard something about desecrating a sacred bloodline." 

"It's worse than normal though," Pike adds.  "We went into a special sanctum under the temple of Bahamut in Vallheim and it didn't bother him." 

I make a small noise and Pike shoots me a look of frustrated concern.  "The scars did ache a little, but I was used to it." 

She mumbles something unintelligible, face buried in her hands.  The older priestess pinches the bridge of her nose with a pained expression. 

"Anyway.  The point is, you not being able to walk into a temple sanctum is new," Pike finishes. 

The older priestess frowns, and walks over to lean out the door, flagging someone down quietly.  I catch something about asking them to get another person; there's a couple minutes and then she's asking whoever it is to go get something.  They sound concerned and disbelieving, checking that it's really what she wants.  She's outside the room for a few minutes after that, then comes back with a couple of large and very old tomes, paging through one of them as she's sitting down in a chair near me. 

"What do you know about the demon?" 

"It's a vengeance demon named Orthax.  I never saw it fully manifested, but it appeared in my dreams and when I was fighting it for control as a creature made of black smoke, with eyes like burning embers and a vaguely avian visage." 

She's paging through the book silently for another few minutes.  "Well.... I'm not finding any real mention, so it's not any known abyssal lord."  She stares long into the open pages.  "When did you first see it?" 

Establishing how long it'd had to make itself at home.  "In dreams, a few months after I escaped - I was around seventeen.  It was offering vengeance for what had happened to my family." 

She closes the book, staring off distantly through the cover.  "For the sake of knowing how to make sure its hold is broken, and no other reason, I need to ask - did you agree to a pact with it in any way, shape, or form?" 

Bloody Hell, that's a question I'd wanted to avoid.  "In dreams, yes - I was desperate, didn't know it was more than a nightmare, and was not exactly in my right mind." 

She nods quietly.  "Taking advantage of the desperate and suffering is often how these creatures work," she comments wryly, setting that one aside and picking up the other old, heavy tome.  "Do you know what being the Briarwoods served?"

"Whatever the Sun Tree was planted to seal out of our plane - one of her books referenced it as 'the Whispered One'." 

She looks like she bit into a roll to find it full of maggots.  It takes her a couple seconds to recover from that.  "I know it's uncomfortable, but I need to get a closer look at what we're dealing with."  She gestures at my scars.  "May I?" 

I sit straighter and shift to the edge of the chair so my back is more visible.  "Whole reason I'm here."  I definitely don't enjoy having those examined, but it's a necessity at this point. 

It takes her a while to go over it all, flipping pages in the tome occasionally the whole time and leaning in close with a light spell on her hand to give her a better look, occasionally asking Pike to double check something.  Eventually, she closes that tome heavily and sets it on the other one, sitting back down in her chair and scrubbing her face with her hands.  "How close did the demon's contract come to completion?"

Two down, I dimly remembering it snarling about 'my kill', I know whether or not Delilah died by my hand ended up a deciding factor in whether or not I'd be able to fend it off at all - "It took two minor targets, but had no hand in Sylas or Delilah's deaths... It was very frustrated that Sylas was killed while it was occupied out of reach, and fought hard for that second one." 

"Well, it was enough to put its claim on you in question even with the spellwork it'd usurped - I'd wager you're also lucky this was pointedly meant for something else to use, not it."  Their 'master' might have been able to just take over without warning, had it managed to worm anything through.  "Pike and I should be able to break any remaining potential hold it has, which should lay these back to dormancy.  Once that's done, I would like to prevent it from being used again in the future, but that will be much more difficult." 

Of course it will.  Delilah had months to work, and the marks have been there for years. 

"I think our best chance to succeed is the very reason she was so intent on you - but I will need to bring in assistance from Pelor's temple to leverage it properly."  She's looking to me - checking that I'm comfortable bringing in help.

I'm not, but I'm also not a moron, and I want to be an easy pawn for anything that can figure out how to use Delilah's handiwork even less.  Enough is enough.  "Please." 

She pauses, casting something, then stares off speaking into thin air.  "Highfather, we need your assistance as soon as you can arrive.  We have someone tied to one of your sacred sites in need."  A couple seconds pass and she nods.  "He should be here in an hour or so."  She stands again.  "We can handle the demon's influence here before he arrives."  With a sigh, she glances to one side.  "We will need to work in the sanctum, and it will hurt a great deal before it's over."  She's very apologetic about it. 

"Small price to pay."  I stand up, ready to go, and she waves Pike to accompany us as we head back to the sanctum.  This time, I take a moment to get a deep breath and steel myself before stepping in, focused on the warding circle in the middle. 

I barely manage to push through to the circle, get one foot across it, and then I'm on the ground in it having only narrowly avoided faceplanting completely.  There's a concerned gasp from the elder priestess, and Pike tiredly answers, 'Yeah, he's always like that." 

Another beat and they're both hurrying over to help me sit up; the scars are burning again and the vertigo is back with a vengeance.  When I'm about as upright as I'm going to get, the priestess lays a hand on my shoulder while Pike darts off to check preparations.  She leans in closer, whispering to me. 

"You don't have to say anything to anyone here - but for this to work, you must be honest with the goddess and yourself."

I ... think I just got read for the liar I've been. 

The ritual is a blur of divine fire and being only barely conscious; it was hard to tell what was real and what wasn't, the scars felt like fresh brands, and at first it was like being in the middle of a firestorm unprotected - with a very distant sense of presence and attention bigger and more alien than anything I'd ever encountered, watching and waiting. 

I had agreed to the bargain.  It may have made contact while I believed it to be a dream, but when it did show itself I agreed to it consciously and willingly; terrified, desperate, and aware that it wasn't trustworthy, that it would do everything it could to destroy me, but I still agreed to a bargain and worked with the damn thing for years.  I was trying to hold arm's length but still working with it, even letting it partly take over occasionally.   I ignored and failed to recognize or accept chances to ask for help, blinded by fear and fatalism, not believing I could be rid of it.

I hadn't started seriously struggling with it until around when the Briarwoods blew back into my life. 

I let it use me for years, and wanted to be rid of it badly enough to offer a hand to Delilah - after years of letting it sit in the back of my mind. 

It's an act of will to mentally hold still while focusing on all of that and trying to hold it out at the feet of some greater will - this is what foothold it had.  This is the leverage it could use to get back.  This is why it was able to get control and where it was my poor decisions as well.  This is what I want to be free of.

Then the presence is more like the time Klorota forcibly held me steady, without the eldritch drunkeness. 

I know the pain stopped, and I apparently blacked out entirely because the next thing I was aware of was Pike nudging my shoulder, hissing my name through her teeth with an urgency that suggested she was trying not to yell.  The older priestess is much calmer about it, sitting back just outside the circle. 

My head hurts, I feel hungover, and everything aches dully - especially the scars - but it's hard to tell how much of that is dormant dark magic being affected by the sanctum and how much is just lingering from the ordeal. 

Once I manage to mumble about being awake, the older priestess steps forward to help me up.  Somehow I'm steadier after all of that than I was walking in.  Pike does what she can for coming to a bit above my knee, clearly rattled.

"Percy?  How're you feeling?"

"Like I tried to outdrink Grog last night."  I take a moment to breathe and try to clear my head.  "But better." 

The priestess checks that I'm steady and steps back.  "We should go to the other room - you should rest until the Highfather gets here, and it shouldn't be very long." 

Pike's carrying my shirt, vest, and coat as we head back to the side room; the way she sets them aside I don't think I'm getting them back until this is over.  "Could I - get a blanket or something?  I don't like being exposed like this." 

"Of course."  The priestess bows and steps out of the room, coming back soon after with a large quilt.  Pike keeps eying me oddly, definitely uncomfortable and concerned, but whatever it is, she's not saying anything for the moment.  I settle into the padded chair with the blanket and end up dozing off into a catnap that lasts until there's some quiet commotion in the hallway. 

The door opens to an older priest in Pelor's robes.  I don't remember what position he held before, but it's definitely one that visited once on temple business.  He's stopped just inside the door to the room, the door sliding closed behind him, staring at me in shock, disbelief, and a few other things warring with slowly dawning and unsure recognition.  It makes a very awkward moment for the two devotees of Saranrae.

Finally, he inclines his head with a last squint.  "...Percival?"

"Highfather."  I give him a tired nod.

Pike blinks between us.  "You know each other?"

The HIghfather half shakes his head.  "We only met once - I was visiting Whitestone.  I'm not sure I'd have remembered you from your siblings if you hadn't heralded my arrival with fireworks."  He sounds fond about it; I vaguely remember having a panic attack because I had gone overboard on the setup and thought the next person through the front door would be one of my siblings who'd been razzing me about lighting the courtyard on fire the last time I tried a setup like that - and that my parents and anyone else involved in the escort were definitely not expecting it.  "I - received a very confusing and incomplete private report that you were alive, but I still wasn't sure it could be real -"  He pauses.  "Is this about whatever shadow had been mentioned dogging you?"

Right.  Lowell had noticed Orthax, and had to report something to his superiors, even if he had room to hedge part of it as 'need to find proof before reporting this'.  "No.  The demon is gone and its hold is broken." 

He looks to the elder priestess of Saranrae, questioning. 

"It's... worse."  She frowns with a tired headshake.  "I don't think there is any explanation I can give that's adequate, unfortunately."  She looks to me. 

I sigh; I'm going to be glad when this is over and I'm not stuck being prodded over it anymore.  It takes a moment to sit up and get the quilt loose enough to pull down so the scars are visible.  The Highfather full body flinches, eyes gone wide.  "Dawnfather's mercy-"  It takes him a few seconds to manage anything else.  "Who did this to you?!" 

I look him in the eyes and keep eye contact as I shrug the quilt back up over my shoulders like an oversized cloak.  "Delilah Briarwood." 

He visibly falters.  "Delilah - I met her barely over a month ago - "  He's dismayed, but there's no sign of doubt or disbelief, at least. 

"And I'm sure they never went near sacred ground - Sylas especially."  It's bitter and venomous and I don't care right now how it might come across.

He's struggling with his composure.  "When -"  He gestures at me, and the scars under the quilt. 

"Years ago - after they massacred my family and any of the household that hadn't sold out to them.  They kept Cassandra and I prisoner for some time before I barely managed to escape - I thought she was dead until just recently." 

He sidesteps to one of the chairs, faltering into it and burying his head in his hands.  "Pelor forgive me, we never fully investigated ourselves…"

I sit back down, leaning back to get whatever rest I can while this is going on; Pike leans over to put a hand on the quilt over my wrist. 

"Did you - come to us for help ever?"  Later I might feel a little bad for the guilt dripping from his voice, but not right now; at least he's clearly tallying what went wrong and where they'd fallen short. 

"Not to any major temple."  He flinches and wilts.  "The fishermen who pulled me out of the river thought I was mad, cursed, or both and wanted nothing to do with me.  The guard I tried to talk to and the priest tending the shrine in that port both thought I was some pickpocket trying to pull a scam.  I managed to find work in a tinker's shop, used that to prepare, and set out on my own.  Once I felt vaguely ready a couple years back, I started hunting anything of theirs I could find; It wasn't going so well alone - and then Vox Machina rescued me when I was in over my head." 

I make a vague gesture in Pike's direction; my eyes are closed, I'm tired and done with everything and not bothering to look right now.  "When the Briarwoods turned up around Emon, the rest of my team were the first ones to believe me and refused to let me go after them alone.  We only just got back this morning from retaking Whitestone; the Briarwoods died trying to revive the zigurrat under the Sun Tree and summon their master back into our world.  Cassandra is leading the rebuilding for the time being."  And has made it quite clear that when I'm less of a mess and more able to take on that kind of responsibility, she is abdicating right back to me.  "The Sun Tree was nearly dead when we arrived; Lady Keyleth of the Air Ashari spent a good bit of time and effort on reviving it, although it will take a long time to fully recover." 

The room is dead silent.  It stays that way long enough that I'm almost dozing off again. 

"We.  Failed you, your family, your city, and almost all of our world." 

I half-nod, still not entirely awake. 

"...When this is over I'll make sure there is an official message - our entire faith owes Vox Machina dearly for stepping in where we failed to do so, and we will do whatever we can to make amends."   And it had damn well better also acknowledge Keyleth's tribe and her rank among them, at the least.  "And I owe much to our sister faith for also assisting."  That was clearly directed to Pike and the Saranrae temple's elder. 

It's a very solemn moment.  I am also very tired, very drained, still feel hungover, and am very aware of the original reason he was called in.  "This is all well and good, but can we go ahead with making sure the next random supernatural fuckwit I run across can't waltz in and take over?" 

He startles, and the elder priestess starts to lay out what they know, opening one of the two large tomes again; it quickly descends into enough magic theory to be more than I can keep up with in my current condition, and then one of them is nudging me awake, asking Pike to show me a room where I can get more proper rest while they sort out what needs to be done.