When Amanda unveils her gift, when she decides to cast her memories aside and endure the pain...it seems like any other eerie night in Ryslig. Atop the decaying building, the air is still, and the sounds of the bustling city are muffled in the distance, impartial to the sacrifice made.
Normally, her body would remain in the torturous contraption, rotting away until the fog rolls in later in the month. An entire week of the lifeless, pathetic mortal flesh gradually losing its colors as flies have their way with it.
But this is far from a normal occasion.
It doesn't happen immediately; a few long minutes pass as wind echos across the abandoned building, with no other sounds save for the lone nymph's quiet sniffles for Amanda's corpse. Bit by bit though, he's joined by a flurry of whispers, a tell-tale sign of the Fog's presence. Their words are almost too quiet, incomprehensible, and yet the voices begin to rise, louder, and louder. Fog suddenly begins to creep all around, enveloping the building and blanketing the night sky.
The whispers give way for a chorus of praise, cheering. Shadowy figures stand seeming just outside of the fog, clapping and raising their hands in admiration. It's not just people either; shadowy objects. . .no, devices, fill the fog too, as the figures cheerfully give themselves to these torture devices. One's head explodes as vice tightens around their face, another continues to sing the fog's praise as they saw their limbs off. Others seem to happily throw themselves over where the edge of the building would be, all with an eerie grin seen through the barrier of fog.
As for Amanda, the voices cheer and chant for her. The blood she's choked on begins to reverse, crawling up her mangled body, seeping back into her mouth and wounds. Tendrils of fog wrap around her many torn limbs and link back to her lifeless torso, seemingly stitching them back together like a misty, continuous thread. And as for the spike that took her heart, it too becomes coat in fog, warping and twisting in her chest, and until a beautiful, icy flower bursts through. However, there is no blood. Instead, the flower settles delicately over her jigsaw shaped scar.
Life flows back into the devotee, and when Amanda opens her eyes again, her torture device shatters like ice. Instead, she'll find herself in the arms of the avatar of the Fog God herself, head tucked gently beneath the chin of the goddess. (Should Nagisa still be present, however, he'll only see a vague figure in the fog.)
The Fog God strokes Amanda's hair gently, returning her strength, and bringing with a gift. A long, flowing cloak forms around Amanda, keeping her warm despite the Fog's trademark chill.
Finally, the Fog God speaks, gazing down at her pet with fond eyes.
"To think, dear child, you'd figure it out oh so quickly. I am impressed."
She cups Amanda's chin, gently lifting it up. "You showed me your hatred, tore yourself apart, screamed without using any words...and once you shed that ugly past, you gave birth to a beautiful, vibrant flower."
The goddess takes a step back, still smiling sweetly, like a proud mother. She then turns her back, spreading her arm. The fog parts briefly, a vision for Amanda's eyes alone. It's a vision that goes far beyond the border of the pleateau, showing another blanket of far that creeps across the ground. It too, disperses, showing a vast, greyed out land that rolls on and on. Massive dried up lakes, rolling hills of ash, petrified trees, it looks as if there was indeed a sprawling land outside of Ryslig at one point, but now, it's just dead land.
"My poor, lost Witness and Priest of Love saw this, too. The land ruined by the humans that forced my siblings to go at each other's throats. . .it was beautiful, for a time." The Fog God brings a clutched hand to her chest. "Those humans destroyed it. They didn't deserve that beauty. So I cloaked it in fog before the world could truly fall apart, and left them to perish. The land you all reside in now is simply that, just for you. A slice of heaven, as some of you may say. And that is beautiful in itself, no?"
She turns back to Amanda, raising a hand to give her cheek one final stroke.
"My dear child. . .my dear Beautiful Priest, so full of passion. Serve me, love me, and let no other stand in your way, ever again."
"As her hand parts from Amanda, so does most of the mist clear in a grand flourish. Amanda will find herself standing there with Nagisa atop the roof - fully reborn and cloaked in her own personal fog."
Approved!
Normally, her body would remain in the torturous contraption, rotting away until the fog rolls in later in the month. An entire week of the lifeless, pathetic mortal flesh gradually losing its colors as flies have their way with it.
But this is far from a normal occasion.
It doesn't happen immediately; a few long minutes pass as wind echos across the abandoned building, with no other sounds save for the lone nymph's quiet sniffles for Amanda's corpse. Bit by bit though, he's joined by a flurry of whispers, a tell-tale sign of the Fog's presence. Their words are almost too quiet, incomprehensible, and yet the voices begin to rise, louder, and louder. Fog suddenly begins to creep all around, enveloping the building and blanketing the night sky.
The whispers give way for a chorus of praise, cheering. Shadowy figures stand seeming just outside of the fog, clapping and raising their hands in admiration. It's not just people either; shadowy objects. . .no, devices, fill the fog too, as the figures cheerfully give themselves to these torture devices. One's head explodes as vice tightens around their face, another continues to sing the fog's praise as they saw their limbs off. Others seem to happily throw themselves over where the edge of the building would be, all with an eerie grin seen through the barrier of fog.
As for Amanda, the voices cheer and chant for her. The blood she's choked on begins to reverse, crawling up her mangled body, seeping back into her mouth and wounds. Tendrils of fog wrap around her many torn limbs and link back to her lifeless torso, seemingly stitching them back together like a misty, continuous thread. And as for the spike that took her heart, it too becomes coat in fog, warping and twisting in her chest, and until a beautiful, icy flower bursts through. However, there is no blood. Instead, the flower settles delicately over her jigsaw shaped scar.
Life flows back into the devotee, and when Amanda opens her eyes again, her torture device shatters like ice. Instead, she'll find herself in the arms of the avatar of the Fog God herself, head tucked gently beneath the chin of the goddess. (Should Nagisa still be present, however, he'll only see a vague figure in the fog.)
The Fog God strokes Amanda's hair gently, returning her strength, and bringing with a gift. A long, flowing cloak forms around Amanda, keeping her warm despite the Fog's trademark chill.
Finally, the Fog God speaks, gazing down at her pet with fond eyes.
"To think, dear child, you'd figure it out oh so quickly. I am impressed."
She cups Amanda's chin, gently lifting it up. "You showed me your hatred, tore yourself apart, screamed without using any words...and once you shed that ugly past, you gave birth to a beautiful, vibrant flower."
The goddess takes a step back, still smiling sweetly, like a proud mother. She then turns her back, spreading her arm. The fog parts briefly, a vision for Amanda's eyes alone. It's a vision that goes far beyond the border of the pleateau, showing another blanket of far that creeps across the ground. It too, disperses, showing a vast, greyed out land that rolls on and on. Massive dried up lakes, rolling hills of ash, petrified trees, it looks as if there was indeed a sprawling land outside of Ryslig at one point, but now, it's just dead land.
"My poor, lost Witness and Priest of Love saw this, too. The land ruined by the humans that forced my siblings to go at each other's throats. . .it was beautiful, for a time." The Fog God brings a clutched hand to her chest. "Those humans destroyed it. They didn't deserve that beauty. So I cloaked it in fog before the world could truly fall apart, and left them to perish. The land you all reside in now is simply that, just for you. A slice of heaven, as some of you may say. And that is beautiful in itself, no?"
She turns back to Amanda, raising a hand to give her cheek one final stroke.
"My dear child. . .my dear Beautiful Priest, so full of passion. Serve me, love me, and let no other stand in your way, ever again."
"As her hand parts from Amanda, so does most of the mist clear in a grand flourish. Amanda will find herself standing there with Nagisa atop the roof - fully reborn and cloaked in her own personal fog."