1866-04-13: Realizations
Summary: Emilia makes a trip out to the Ironhold Castle ruins and the prison there to 'confront' the Widow of the Woods. (OOC Warning : It is Emi, the Voices in her head, and a Banshee…it is a little creepy…Or so I am told, you are warned)
Date: 1866-04-13
Related: Revalations

The words of the Archbishop had played over in her mind so many times before, and were turning over in her mind again now… ..to make you…something else. Her creature. Her child. Emilia had known long before the talk that something had been left within her, but she had not figured it was purposeful. She had thought it an accident, something left when Jaren had disrupted Her from feeding….But that hadn't been the case at all. It had been on purpose. The Widow had done this to her on purpose!

We have told you, you were meant for something more. We are meant to be greater.

All the thoughts, the worries that she were some sort of monster, Emilia had not been entirely wrong. Worse Jaren had faced such creatures as she was meant to be. The only thing Emilia could be thankful about, if it could be called that, was Sirrah said he was not yet aware of the connection. But it was only a matter of time. Wasn't it? The Archbishop would tell him at some point, or if Emilia dared to asked the questions that arouse in her mind about what he had seen? Would he not figure it out? He had saved her, but from something else entirely. Not from dying, but from being turned.

We are meant for more. We could still be more She told you how.

NO! Emilia stalked down the hall. No, she was not going to continue the process. By the One! She had been angry before at having lost her family. To have seen her mother and Randall die, but it was worse now. To know that they had been killed to try and make her into something else. That her family had been tortured and murder so she could be made into something else. The Widow's Child. It was well and good no one, no creature dared come near this place. There would be nothing to bear witness to what was to come.

The anger and rage within swelled and built with each step that she took closer to the room with the iron circle that was the banshee's prison. The usually stoic expression gave way to the anger. She was allowed to be angry. He had said so! But he had not known this. Her eyes darkened as she let that anger consume her, allowing Them to raise closer to the surface, not caring to hold it back any longer. Not here. What did it matter here? No one would see. No one would hear the scream that crossed her lips as she entered the room, the unnatural wailing edge to it.

It was still nothing compared to the answer that came, even if the banshee's own wail was a mere whisper compared to what the Widow could muster upon a stormy eve. Nevermind the horror of what She could do when set free. But She was waiting for Emilia, she had known of her approach, like she always did. It made more sense now, now that Emilia knew. Knew what she was supposed to be. Emilia's blackened eyes glared at those almondine eyes, as she let lose another wailing scream of rage at the Widow. Of course she had the scent of the Banshee when she was flesh and blood, because the Widow had been making her, Emilia, into her child.

Stalking closer to the circle of iron, and starting to pace around the outside of the circle. The banshee keeping with her upon the inside, Emilia's own unnatural screams…wails, being returned and echoed back at her. Though there was a new edge to the madness within the banshee's eyes as she watched Emilia pace about the outside of her prison. This caused Emilia to pause, truly facing the creature that had taken and changed her life. Change /her/ forever. Sirrah said something left was easier to remove then to replace something that was taken. What if it wasn't just something left, what if she was truly changed? What if she were….


The sound. The word snapped Emilia from her thoughts, her eyes widened as she stared at the being before her, the outstretched hand that was trying to touch her. They both knew that barrier wouldn't allow it. Emilia would have to enter the circle to allow that to happen. And yet She was trying to…what? Caress Emilia's cheek? The look in those eyes, there was that madness, but there was something else there. How long they stood and simply looked…stared at one another. She did not know. Long enough, that Emilia questioned whether she had heard what she thought…the Widow never..


…spoke. Emilia blinked. And the last storms of rage gave over to something else as Emilia sank to her knees. A soft sob came as Emilia's head fell into her hands. Shuddering….as luminescent finger tips just barely brushed over the top of her head.

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