EVENT #3: THE COST OF INNOCENCE

[aionmods]

The Cost of Innocence

INVESTIGATION

As the Aions arrive in Venera, they will find the natural beauty of the city in sharp contrast to its uncomfortable aura. Though the sun still shines and flowers still bloom in a place filled with physical vibrancy and life, the air itself is impossibly still, as if wind no longer blows. You can taste the stagnancy of it when you breathe, and the pleasant sights only make that feeling of absence more haunting. The streets are mostly empty, with most of the city's residents hiding away in their homes, fearing the touch of whatever illness has caused this. That is, all the citizens besides those most affected, who wander the streets in a lifeless and painless daze.

Normally, Venera would be occupied by both Hylician and Achamite soldiers, but it quickly becomes apparent that both have abandoned the city, only guarding its furthest outskirts. Their reasons vary: the Achamite soldiers seem to take religious objection to the feeling of the city, believing it to be some trickery of the Innocent, while the Hylicians simply see it as a plague they have no interest in catching or spreading. Because of this, it will be easy for Aions of both sects to explore with little pushback from any form of law enforcement. The Kenoma will be directed into the city with warnings about the potential physical and spiritual danger while Pleroma will be able to sneak in mostly unbothered. After all, no one is eager to follow you.

Most shops and businesses are currently closed, though some uninfected individuals still nervously keep watch over their workplaces, fearing potential looting. It's difficult, but not impossible, to find people to talk to, and while the most plentiful wanderers are the infected, the reactions from those with their minds still intact will vary. Some will be eager to speak to anyone who looks like they're trying to do something about their situation, desperate for any source of outside help. If revealed you are an Aion, this may either entice them even further or cause them to retreat, as if fearing that you are somehow to blame for their plight. For those that are enticed, it will become clear that they hold onto faith that Aions are in Horos to save them, and will tell these new arrivals whatever they can without discriminating between sects.

The base level information that can be found is thus: the infection began at the same levels it has been in the rest of Horos, only for the numbers of the afflicted to rapidly accelerate upon the coming of the Innocent's Moon. Some see it as a form of divine punishment for their cooperation with the Regent, while the less cooperative citizens see it as a malady brought about by the Aions themselves, their only hope being that they will be able to clean up the mess they made. Some citizen have managed to corral their inflicted loves ones into their rooms and will be willing to introduce you; most of these individuals are past the point of conversation, and seem fully lost to whatever fantasy world they are experiencing. They are disinterested in eating or drinking and it seems like, without help, they are destined for a slow death of starvation and atrophy. That is, if their apathetic state doesn't result in a severe accident, as it has in many cases already.

Any other clues will take more dogged investigation. It will be a day or so after the majority of Aions have arrived in the city that the first signs of their own infections become clear.

HEAVENLY BODIES

The first to feel its effects will be the Innocents, Lovers, and Celebrants; like a voice has fully awakening to them, whispering of how their touch can be the cure to the others' pain. It bids them to take their fellow Aions into their loving embrace, to share this gift, as only suffering lies ahead. It expresses without words that it will be a shield for their Aion kindred, and that those that accept will become their outstretched hands to a cosmos that craves peace. Any form of physical contact with those three Legacies will either introduce or rapidly accelerate the infections experienced by the others, this effect only becoming more intense if the wielder intentionally forces the power of this strange entity into their victims.

Even without that accelerating touch, however, other Aions are not necessarily safe; the infection will still seep in, albeit more slowly. All Aions may experience a growing feeling of connection to the infected Venerans, as if the energy within them is being drawn into their their own bodies. As the Aion's symptoms worsen, the the ones suffered by the Venerans will gradually lessen, though not go away entirely. It seems that the Aions soaking up this strange power is enough to take the edge off of what is happening to the citizens: but at what cost?

Various symptoms will manifest in afflicted Aions with outcomes far more diverse and devastating than what the Veneran civilians have experienced. Visionaries, Firebrands, and Artisans will suffer the most catastrophic symptoms, the clash between their spiritual natures and that of the Innocence being the most extreme. This malady is characterized by its innate desire to quell its victims of their resistance, smothering them in artificial peace, even if it has to deprive them of their bodies and minds to do so.

It is not without treatment, however. It will gradually become apparent that feelings of intense suffering or upset are capable of purging the infection, that clash with painful reality seeming to wake them up from their trance and reduce or eliminate physical symptoms. The more intense the distress, the more effective it will be. Fortunately, this heightening of Aion spiritual energy has the added consequence of making empathic communion connections far more acute. Instead of just transmitting and receiving emotions and thoughts, Aions will find themselves more easily able to enter the delusions and memories of their kindred, drawing them out and manipulating them for this purpose. The catch is that they will only be able to access what is on the surface of the other Aion's mind.

When an infection is reduced or expelled this way, the energy causing it seems to be dispelled from the city, lowering the intensity of its ambient effects. While similar can be done to Veneran citizens to help treat them, the energy will not leave, and will either go into the Aion casting it out or return to the nebulous source of Innocence and eventually infect someone else. Something about going through the Aions specifically seems to act as a filter, as unpleasant of a way as it is to help.

IN THE SILENCE

For those unlucky enough to develop complete, or near complete, infections (IE. a full Innocence petrification) a presence will awaken within them regardless of their Legacy. It will urge them to join with it, to embrace the peace it offers, and to become the extensions of their will in this ravaged world. With an infection of this intensity, there will be little they can do but to hear its call. What exactly this would ultimately entail is unclear, but there is the sense that his entity is looking to join with you on a spiritual level. If your character becomes infected to this degree please let us know under the Committed Actions toplevel below along with the context of that transformation and whether or not they are being cured from it. You may receive some additional information in return!

QUESTIONS

What is the best way for Aions to travel to Venera?
The quickest travel paths are for Kenoma to take a boat from Achamoth, which will take about a day, and for Pleroma to teleport to the Celebrant's shrine and take either a carriage or river boat to the city (there are offshoot rivers not marked on the setting map). The riverboats would be the faster option option of the two, and would also take about a day. The carriages/delivery carts would be slower and take a couple days, but have relay access to horses and therefore could keep going overnight. Characters with flight are also able to use that, though flying right into the city might cause a bit of spectacle. Then again, none of the local law enforcement is eager to chase you at the moment.

Are Veneran civilians experiencing the same symptoms as the Aions?
Veneran civilians are only experiencing apathy/loss of self/daydreaming and maybe the loss of pigments/color for advanced cases. The more body horror orientated effects are Aion only and are being caused by their body's spiritual makeup.

Can 'cured' Aions be reinfected?
Yes! Even if cured or treated, symptoms can return or worsen again. This will keep happening until the build up of Innocence energy in Venera is entirely expunged, at which point the illness will fade away across the continent. Whether or not the Aions mere presence will be enough to trigger that is yet unknown, but it does seem to be helping lessen the effects suffered by the civilians, at least.

How long does the infection period last in Aions?
Chronologically, we are considering the infection period of the plot to last 2-3 days.

Comments

[galdorleod]

Howl stares back at Emet-Selch, mouth slightly agape, as he spits venom at him. He'd seen and felt his sorrow before, but not like this. The ancient had not shared this facet of himself before — this irreconcilable disgust that is both sourced from his sorrow and a source of it. He's still shaken by what he's heard as the room begins to change and does not even look out at the new surroundings. It's when Howl's gaze follows Emet-Selch's to the bed that he manages to glimpse the dead man's death mask just before it disappears.

In this moment, there is no time for the young wizard to make sense of the contradictory things he's learned about Emet-Selch over the past few months. Nor is there any time for Howl to get mad at him for what he's hearing — these new revelations are making him feel very lied to. He must do something, mad at him or not, offended or not, or else Emet-Selch will be trapped in a white prison of apathy, and drag Howl back in with him.

Gritting his teeth, Howl reaches out with a suddenly clawed and feathered hand to roughly grab the front of Emet-Selch's ornate vestments. There is a defiant, determined scowl on Howl's face for when he inevitably looks down at him, but Howl wastes no time, knowing that this gesture will not be appreciated. With a steel grip, he yanks Emet-Selch forward towards the bed. As soon as he reaches the foot of it, he uncerimoniously snatches the white sheet off with his other hand. The blond man's empty, lifeless, unfeeling eyes stare up at the ceiling.

"And what exactly, you useless old man, are you doing about it?"

Howl lets go, pushing him away as he does, before pointing accusingly at the body. This might actually ruin their friendship, he screeches at himself silently, but he could not think of anything else to say, and they both need out of this memory. Fast.

"You can't tell me you sat on some stupid throne, busying yourself with paperwork, while your own child lay dying in some other room? Left him there to suffer, alone, with not even his own father there holding his hand as he perished? Not to mention some supreme mage who I'm quite sure could have fixed his ailment in an instant? Was that Emet-Selch on holiday at the time?"

Howl is trembling, he hear it in his own voice, but he continues, pointing his accusing finger at his friend now. "If this is how useless you are when it comes to saving your own son, you'll never bring your people back. What are you doing, man? What are you really doing about any of this?"

[lachtara]

As he is led to the bedside, spoken to in such a way, and openly berated, it feels as though something that he has been trying to keep at bay finally shatters.  

His gaze slowly, quietly, shifts to Howl. A white tear slides down the slides of his face - it bears the signature look of the Innocence that has afflicted him - and then another, and then the next. There seems to be no end to them.

"You think of me as so unfeeling," Emet-Selch says bitterly. "That I would sit on a throne and not suffer the weight of despair of what has been lost? For me, for you, for all who draw breath? That making the world right again does not consume my every thought?"

Emet-Selch thrusts a hand outward and the whole of everything around them dissipates into wisps of black. The flurry of darkness surrounds them, builds upon itself, and leaves them standing in a shallow pool of inky darkness bordered by the silhouettes of ruined spires.

"Then let me share with you my misery." He says before their Communion is flooded with the same heartbreak he had felt so long ago - As stood and watched as his world burned.

[galdorleod]

Howl is anticipating retaliation for what he's just said. The tears prompt him to take a nervous step away and he bites his tongue as Emet-Selch seems to be ramping up to something. As he'd feared, the room around them starts to change for the second time, and Howl stands poised for anything — whatever horrible magic spell or legion of imagined soldiers the Ascian's mind might subject him to next. And he has no idea whether his cruel words have actually worked or not.

The young wizard has little time to digest the dark water around his ankles or the structures towering in the murky distance. The psychic assault of emotion hits him so hard, it's as if he's crashing into the ground again. This isn't physical pain, though, it's even deeper than that, inescapable, the sort of pain that does not heal or fade with time, but languishes, unresolved. This same sorrow has been permeating the air since Emet-Selch drew them into this memory, but here it is in full force, pure and undiluted.

The first time Howl felt this sadness, it brought him to tears. Now, he's trembling as the world blurs around him. After a moment, he drops to his knees into the black at his feet, splashing down with his hands to stop his fall. But there is not exactly a floor beneath the pool... it feels like... sand, or muck...

"Emet, p-please," Howl gasps. When he squeezes his eyes shut, tears drop into the water beneath him. "I understand... I do understand.... stop this already...!"

[lachtara]

"You understand?! How could you possibly understand?!" It's the first time that he's truly raised his voice in anger. It sounds different, distraught in a way.

Flickers of feelings bubble up one at a time; The feeling of having to murder those he knew, the heartbreak he felt as he watched his dearest friend give themselves to death, watching their sacrifice shatter into nothing, waking in a ruined world surrounded by the broken souls, the loneliness of lifetimes, the hopelessness, failure

upon failure

upon failure

the feelings run on and on.

All the emotions build on one another, as a thousand thousand screams of those he'd seen lost fill the air.

Emet-Selch pets a hand to his face, his fingers curling with his own tinge of pain. Even as he feels these same emotions with such clarity, he does not so much as bend a knee to them. "No matter what misery I may endure next, no matter what sadness or heartbreak or loss I face, I cannot yeild to it. The hopes and dreams of those I love fall to me and I will not fail them."

Through all the grief and sadness, perseverance remains. And through the endless sea of darkness around them begins to appear small pinpricks of light, as if the illusion is finally starting to break.

[galdorleod]

Howl braces himself against the muck under his hands and knees, gasping for air, praying that the sensation of being sucked downward into quicksand is only a figment of his imagination, as the sheer weight of Emet-Selch's emotions bears down on him like a physical, tangible force. The gravity of this heartrending past feels like it's being converted into literal gravity, and Howl cannot do anything in the face of it. He can't even raise his gaze to see the tears continuing to stream down Emet-Selch's face, or the glimmers of natural sunlight starting to break through their constructed surroundings.

No. With his head bowed, he sobs. Each tear sends a ripple across the surface of the black pool. He's sank into the pool up to his elbows now. He should have never said any of those things to Emet-Selch, to his friend, not even to save him. He hears the voice of the Innocent in the back of his mind again, telling him that it would have been more merciful, more loving, to let the Ascian become lost to peace that it offered. In this moment, it is hard to disagree with it.

[lachtara]

The darkness above them continues to break apart. It gives way to a rippling sky of churning ocean waves.

Everything becomes plainly visible in this newfound light. All around them are buildings that stretch heavenward in an endless array of spires. Their winding structures look as though they were once awe-inspiring creations of artistry, but now sand and muck seeps through them, they are peppered with cracks, and fire seems to have tarnished most of the building's lovingly crafted faces.

Emet-Selch finally closes his eyes. The white tears of innocence on his face begin to run clear, and whatever affliction of Innocence that had consumed him drains out with it. He takes a deep breath and finally settles back into a familiar calm.

When all the pain and sorrow has run itself through, All that remains is the heartwrenching feeling of wanting to go back to a place that only exists in his memory. To the ruined place they both stand in now.

His voice sounds quietly through the Communion: 'After my people were no more, a countless number thought themselves worthy to inherit our world. I shared with them what I know, ruled over their nations, raised a family with them, befriended them - ' He looks up longingly to the ruins around them. ' - but they are not the people I once loved.'

[galdorleod]

Slowly, mercifully, the onslaught of despair subsides. Howl remains motionless on the ground, soaking wet and on his knees, but now there is a city street beneath him, grey and smooth and clean. His sobbing has been replaced with deep, shaky breaths. He's still collecting himself when he hears Emet-Selch's voice in his head, quiet and yearning. Controlled again.

When Howl rises to his knees and lifts his head, he's finally able to take in the expansive landscape around them. It feels foreign to him, and it's clearly not the city that housed the royal quarters he saw before, but there's an overwhelming nostalgia invading his mind as well, layering on top of his own genuine emotions. One look at Emet-Selch tells him that the peril has passed, and that he's succeeded in saving his friend. This sadness is not being shared for the purpose of hurting him anymore, but it hurts him all the same.

Howl doesn't want to stay. He doesn't want to talk to Emet-Selch about what he's just seen and felt, or what he had to say to make him lash out. He swallows dryly and turns away. As he does, a coat of feathers emerges from his arms and clothed back, and his mind pushes back against the psyche overlapping with his own. He wants out of this. Get Emet-Selch out of his head, get himself out of his head, and let him fly away.

[lachtara]

Emet-Selch looks up longingly at the buildings that surround him. Once happy and buzzing with life and laughter, here they sit. Silent and ruined as the graves they mark.

He observes as the illusion fades. The ominous morning gives way to the blood-red evening skies of Venera, and each wonderfully ruined spire quickly slips back to the flower-filled archways and daintily carved architecture of the city.

He doesn't say anything to Howl. The link between them is quietly severed in silent dismissal.

[galdorleod]

With a loud and rushing beat of two wings that swiftly sprout out of the feathers now covering Howl's back, he launches into the air, sending up dried leaves and a cloud of dust in his wake. Almost in the same instant, he's put enough distance between himself and the Ascian, and that pervasive, never-ending sadness is gone.