[attr="class","chartltitle"]melusine's timeline

[attr="class","chartl-item"]1995, AGE 0. melusine is born to melior khatagin and an unimportant, dead man.

[attr="class","chartl-item"]1999, AGE 4. a young mel falls deathly ill. though she is nursed back to health by the head priestess, she is known for her weak constitution in the following years.

[attr="class","chartl-item"]2005, AGE 10. she begins to hear faint, maddening whispers in the dark, ones she cannot understand. this ignites a stubborn hope in her mother, one that would last for years to come.

[attr="class","chartl-item"]2010, AGE 15. melusine begins to paint. her paintings are beautiful renditions of scenes from scripture; a majority of her paintings are hung in the halls of the temple, and continue to be to this day.

[attr="class","chartl-item"]2015, AGE 20. all women must contribute to the longevity of the clan, and melusine is no exception. nine months later, █████████ ████████ is born. more importantly, it is the same night that the dreaming one visits. there is a bargain made, a name shared.

[attr="class","chartl-item"]2016, AGE 21. with obvious manifestations of magic comes attention. leucosia, the head priestess, requests her presence. melusine begins to serve leucosia directly, learning from her in turn. as a result melusine becomes her closest confidant, whilst thinking of her as a true mother figure.

[attr="class","chartl-item"]2019, AGE 24. she believes she can drown all her worries, leaving them to sink to the bottom of the sea. she forgets that all eyes are on her. there are too many obstacles, and in the end, she has to save her worries.

[attr="class","chartl-item"]2020, AGE 25. mother finally dies. the funeral is a sad affair, one she "can't stand to watch". mel manages to give a heartwarming eulogy, though the words sound hollow to herself.

[attr="class","chartl-item"]2022, AGE 27. the time has come to prove herself. the head priestess sends her to delphi. to wait. to watch. make the lady of hoarfrost proud. when she arrives, a stranger in red gives her an offer.

[attr="class","loctitle"]
THESES: EXCERPT 1

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You must first understand this: they are not gods.
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Nor are they any manner of beast that you may be familiar with. They are wholly unknowable, physically and mentally. Their very existence contradicts reality… from what I have experienced.
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Imagine this: a perfect circle. It is round, completely flat. We can see all the contents of the circle, both inside and out.
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But how does the circle view us?
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Were we to be transposed through the same dimension as the circle, it could never view us as we are. It would only see other circles, expanding and shrinking, catching glimpses of our innards as we passed through.
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To the circle, the world is still as it always was. Everything is still flat, though it may change shape or disappear.
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Now, say that the circle catches – for just a moment – a glimpse of our three-dimensional plane. The circle could never hope to understand it. At best, it knows that what it saw is wrong. That it doesn’t belong, and it can’t exist.
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Of course, a circle has no eyes. It cannot think. But if the circle was not a circle, and the two-dimensional plane was not a two-dimensional plane – do you understand?
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We should consider ourselves lucky, then, that they are locked in deep slumber. Dead yet living, waiting for the stars to be right. The only thing they can do is dream, finding any unlucky creature they can attach themselves to. Anything that will act as the executor of their will, whatever that will may be.
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And when they wake… well, who knows what will happen?
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[attr="class","loctitle"]
GRANT US EYES

[attr="class","locbody"]
tw: gore, self-harm, bad food, eye stuff
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The Lady’s Light is given to those who are wholly faithful.
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The foremost tenet of the Winter’s Grasp, and the one most often cited. Even the most mundane tasks were devoted in her name. To harbor doubt against the Lady was to give up your self-worth, your name, your possessions, your identity, your life.
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It sounds terrible, doesn’t it? Don’t worry. The Lady is an intrinsically benevolent being. She is known for her generosity and graciousness. Forgiveness can be attained. It is possible. ███████, ███████, ███████████, ███████, and ███████████ will suffice.
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Melusine was too young for most of those things. She was too young to have wronged the Lady, but why else would she be so cursed? Falling ill so often, wasting medicine and magic that could be better used for other things. This was the common consensus in the island.
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Her mother was the only one who believed. You only need to be here by my side. You’re too young to worry about adult matters - that’s how you’ll get wrinkles, she would always say, brushing off the concerns. Melior never let anything bother her, especially about her daughter.
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…It was too confusing. Her heart begged to believe. She wouldn’t, she couldn’t, I’m her daughter. She would believe her heart if she didn’t see it with her own eyes. It was horrible. She didn’t want to think, but it was always at the front of her mind, a rot that had taken root in the corners of her mind and spread throughout the cracks.
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Worse still was how the world moved on, as though nothing had happened.
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Every new day was the same as the last. Her mother was an integral part of her life, something that couldn’t be changed easily. Every day, they saw each other. They slept in the same bed. They ate most of their meals together. They sought each other out for the most mundane things. Their lives were entangled as they always were, but instead of being comfortable, their closeness now felt suffocating.
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Her reprieve came in the form of a daemon in the sea. It was her mother’s duty to keep their snowy pocket of the world safe from the horrors of the ocean. When there were sightings of daemons, she would take to sea and hunt it down. She would bring the daemon back, alive but heavily injured, and they would cleanse the monster in the purifying flame. It was an important job. When Melusine was younger, she used to cry when her mother left. This time, she felt freed of a weight she didn’t know she carried.
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First, she saw her mother off, all false smiles and prayers. Don’t cry, I’ll be back soon. She hadn’t cried at a send-off in years.
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Second, she went to the temple to pray for her mother’s safe travel. Today, she changed the prayer. I shouldn’t ask this, but please. Please, please, please. Let her die out there. Even a storm or a big wave would do. The eyes of the statue stared blankly at her, deaf to her pleas.
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Third didn’t happen like it should. Melusine was supposed to leave and make good use of her time. She had a half-finished painting to work on, and she would join the other children in lessons after. It wouldn’t have changed if not for -
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“Melusine.”
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The warm voice belonged to a woman with short, raven-black hair, and a bright smile. Leucosia, the High Priestess. A woman she was directed to leave alone, though in times where her mother was away, it fell to the High Priestess to keep tabs on her. You already take up so much of her time, don’t bother her more than you already have, her mother would scold.
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Melusine knew better. Turn away, walk away, make a small excuse… her body itched to do all three. She willed herself to stay. “Yes, nw hafh’drn?” There was a small, simple black box in Leucosia’s hands. A box for her? …Then it was only right that she took it.
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“A gift for you. Remember our visitors? She wanted you to have it.”
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Leucosia didn’t have to say who. Miss Serizawa. For her? …Why? Out of everyone, she was the least deserving of a gift. Despite her thoughts, Melusine stared at the box with unrestrained curiosity, gently picking it up from the High Priestess’s hands.
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“What is it?” She asked, beginning to pry the box open. It wasn’t very heavy, and it was small enough that she had no idea what it could be. Perhaps a trinket of some kind, given the size.
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Leucosia stopped her halfway through, placing a hand on the lid and pressing it closed. A strange smile; “something helpful for you, I heard. You’ll find out when you get home.” It was an order.
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It was only later that she realized it was a sad smile. The box, too, was given to her at a suspiciously convenient time.
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She didn’t think as she raced home through the piling snow, body stinging from the cold. Her mind was occupied with wonder and opportunity. Something to help? Melusine had already received a gift from the woman a few weeks ago, in a way. The gift of knowledge was as burdening as it was freeing, but she’d rather know the truth than live a lie.
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Footsteps slowed and then stopped upon meeting the door. Open it? Should I? What if there was something else she didn’t know? She wasn’t ready for it. It was hard enough living with her mother knowing what she knew.
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The door creaked open and shut when she entered, stuck in the dim room as she scrambled to find a candle. There’s one on the table - she just needed a match - ouch, her finger. After an initial struggle, the candle took to flame, lighting up her immediate surroundings.
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Melusine hated the dark, but she hated lighting up the dark even more. Too many shadows. It made everything feel eerie, like the darkness would move to swallow her whole. Something straight out of a nightmare, which she had plenty of. She stared at the box as if it would move, then pulled out a chair when her legs inevitably grew sore.
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It was exciting to get a gift, she had to remind herself. Her first one, not counting her mother and the High Priestess. They didn’t really count. Her mother turned things into gifts as an excuse to dress Mel up, or feed her future magic prowess, or keep her healthy. Leucosia mostly gave her medicine when she was sick. The Leviathan… Mel didn’t know what to expect from her. Something amazing, just like her. Something intimidating, just like her.
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She opened the box with trembling hands.
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It was… an eye. Someone’s eye. Actually, it looked like one of hers. A dark red that closely matched blood. It would fit her perfectly. In fact, she almost believed she was looking at one of her eyes, if she wasn’t completely certain she never lost hers.
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”Ew!” She couldn’t bear to look anymore. Her eyes found the darkness she hated, and her hand moved to shove the eye away. It rolled like a marble, a clean sound unlike flesh. She didn’t want to see it - what kind of gift was that -
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Ultimately, she reached over the table to grab it with her hand before it rolled onto the ground. A gift shouldn’t be wasted, even if it was… … …it wasn’t…? Not an eye? Melusine pinched the sphere between her fingers, rolling it back and forth. It was more like a big marble, not squishy like an eye. But it looked so real! If the Leviathan wanted to scare her, it worked. It still made her uneasy, looking at it.
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After the initial scare, she had one question: what was she supposed to do with it?
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It couldn’t be a toy, that didn’t make sense. Nothing was hidden inside either, unless she couldn’t figure out the mechanism from touch and sight. If she was supposed to use it to watch people, she didn’t have the means to do that either. It didn’t work like a telescope. The obvious conclusion was that it was a replacement for an eye, but… she never lost an eye. Throughout her illnesses, her eyesight stayed perfect, so it couldn’t be an aid for her sight either.
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She was stumped. Mel leaned on the table with her elbows, propping her chin on her hands. Staring at the eye. It stared back at her.
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…
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Forever, she stared at the eye. At some point, the candle went out. She didn’t know when. It didn’t bother her until she realized the candle went out. She nervously felt the different spots of the table, looking for the matches from earlier.
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…There was something sticky on the table. Her breath hitched in her throat. What was it? She didn’t know. She didn’t want to think about it… the matches… she needed the matches.
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Her fingers closed around a small matchstick. Finally. She struck the match on the table. It didn’t work. Right, there was something on the table… Mel felt the side of the chair, striking the match on the flat side of the seat. The light quelled the shadows around her, but they were everywhere.
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The candle was supposed to be on the table, but she couldn’t see it anymore. It was gone? How could it be gone?
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Darkness leapt forward to snuff the match out. It must have burned itself out. Her fingers hurt. Panic bubbled within Melusine as explored the table again, finding the entire pack of matches this time. The light never felt so soothing before, but her home was too unnerving to relax. She needed the candle, what if something was in her house?
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…Maybe she just needed to sleep. Mom always said there was nothing scary about the dark and she should try to go to sleep. But if she was going to sleep, she needed to find the gift again. It was strange, but Miss Serizawa gave it to her. Where did it go? How was she losing so many things all of a sudden… it wasn’t like her to lose them.
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A sea of black filled her vision again. This was why they used candles to light things, not matches. Melusine struck a match on the side of the chair again, nearly falling backwards off of the chair.
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It wasn’t an issue of poor balance, rather, the table. Everything. She had light, she was looking at the table, and she still didn’t notice. Without thinking she dropped the match, letting it starve to death on the floor. Her hands cupped over her mouth, but of course - now she couldn’t see anything.
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A short look was enough. She could still feel it. An empty bowl, haphazardly lying on the table with its mouth touching the wood. It spilled everywhere - over the matches, down onto her dress. A disgusting stain she couldn’t scrub out no matter how hard she tried, the one that was permanently inked on her brain.
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It looked a little different than she remembered. Bugs twitching, flesh oozing, the iconic ink-black of a daemon’s body. Mother wouldn’t go that far, right?
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The scary thing was, she would never truly know what she’d eaten so far.
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She wasn’t sure she wanted to see anything. Leave - she had to leave this place. Clutching the matches in one hand, she clumsily got up from the chair, attempting to sprint and immediately tripping on something. A rolling sound followed after her fall.
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Melusine pushed herself off the ground, heading straight for where she thought the door was. It was a straight walk, how could she miss it? She nearly kissed the stone wall with her teeth, hitting her nose hard on the cold surface. No door. She moved across the length of the wall, waiting for the surface of the wall to change into wood. Not here.
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Okay. That was fine (Something was rotting and it was tickling her nose) There were more walls in this house. She could leave if she tried, she knew. She changed walls, running down the length of this wall. Halfway through, she stepped on something wet, something not unlike what had already spilled down her skirt. Mel dragged her foot across the clean part of the stone floor, retracing her steps back to the forward wall.
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Using a match… wouldn’t hurt. Don’t look back, it will be fine. She struck the match on the wall, only to drop it when someone spoke.
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“Are you looking for something?”
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A chill ran down her spine. Then, confusion. She was already here. The candle suddenly lit itself - someone lit the candle - and the silvery figure turned to wave at her. Melusine squinted at the figure in the dim candlelight. It was her?
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“Come, let’s talk.”
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Slowly, uneasily, she returned to the table. Black viscera and entrails oozed down the length of the table, from the bowl to the empty seat at the end of the table. Melusine moved to sit right next to the girl, a relatively clean spot.
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”Melusine should sit over there.” Meaning, the disgusting spot.
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”Oh… I want to sit here, though.”
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”Then sit wherever.”
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She sat at the other end of the table, staring at her self blocked by the candle. ”Are you… me?” This was strange? The girl at the other end of the table was undoubtedly herself. A dream, but in a dream, who would talk to themself?
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”There’s no one I can be but me. A dream is where the subconscious and conscious can meet… isn’t that so? It’s not weird if I think about it.”
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It was weird when she thought about it. Who could control a dream but the divine? Melusine held no power in her dreams.
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”Why did I sit there? I wanted to sit here.”
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“I”, “me”. Are they really the same? ”I thought it might be better to sit here.” Lie. She’d pushed her chair back as far as she dared, away from the dark “soup” that dripped down from the table.
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”No. I should be more honest. It’s only a dream.”
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Silence.
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”I’m scared. I hate this house. I hate Mom. I want to leave. I can’t leave.”
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“That’s not true-”
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”There’s no door out of this house. “ Melusine said solemnly, looking across the table. ”No door for me. I’m too weak… that’s why it’s easier to be a doll. Mother can think for me. She’s older and wiser and smarter. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her. That’s why I can live in this dollhouse.”
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Her hands curled into fists in her lap. ”I’m human. I have to leave. Show me how to leave.” Hot tears blurred her vision. There was no way she was staying here. A dollhouse? That was no different from a prison.
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She wanted to be free.
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Wooden legs screeched as Melusine clambered onto the table, reaching for the candle.
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”Wait, I-”
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Her fingers closed on the flame. Ouch. She pulled her hand back. The snuffed out flame left her in darkness. And the darkness, it paralyzed her; she heard the low growl of a monster, a knife dragging across the table, a pyre burning. ”There’s just me,” she whispered warily, unbelieving.
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”It’s just me. There’s no one else here…” Put a little more force into it and she might believe it.
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“I’m the only one.”
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…
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Oh… it’s nice. If she was certain there was only her, the darkness started to feel more comfortable. She didn’t have to see or hear or move or think. It was how she always lived, wasn’t it? Sad, sickly, sightless, scared girl. Better left to die than drain and dream, if some people knew how to let go.
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Melusine awoke with a jolt, hitting her leg on the table. Sitting in the chair, not climbing over the table. The candle was still alight. Her neck was terribly sore. There was no Melusine to stare at in the other chair. She ignored each abnormality, fixated on the floor next to her. The gift she was clumsy enough to drop. It didn’t crack or chip despite the long fall.
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It was an eye. Obviously. And Melusine… she was blind anyway. Two eyes, one eye, none. It was all the same. Why should the quantity make any difference qualitatively?
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She picked up the glass eye eye from the floor, neatly putting it into its box. There was nowhere to put a third eye, so she would have to make space.
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Mother liked her knives sharp and clean. That was good for her. Hold her head over the large bloodstained pot and - hesitate. Why do this? Did she have to do this? Cutting out part of herself… would hurt. Even if her eyes were useless just like her. She didn’t want to hurt herself.
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…If your right eye causes you to stumble, pluck it out and throw it away from you.
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Her right eye had caused her to stumble.
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…Do not fear pain. It hurts as it should.
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The words of the Lady were infinitely wise.
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In hindsight, Melusine didn’t know nearly as many things about stabbing as she thought she did. Insufficient knowledge about human anatomy, insufficient skills with a blade. How deep do you drive the knife? How do you take it out? How should you deal with the blood? How can you prevent infection?
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She didn’t ask any of those things until the knife was buried hilt-deep in her right eye socket. She hadn’t thought to be slow about it. One moment she stared down a blade in one eye, the next she saw red. So, so much red, mixed with something else. Eyes had more than just blood in them. It went all over her arms, all over everywhere. It looked like such a waste. And the pain - it hurt, in an extremely discomfiting way. Like something was lodged in there and she couldn’t close her eye although she wanted to. It hurt enough to send her wailing, but she was more concerned about other things.
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Keeping her noise to a minimum, for one. Anyone could be outside. Her hair, tumbling over her shoulder into the pot, dyed the same deep red as the fluid that dripped into it. Blood stained the upper portion of her white clothes. At least the blood was mostly going into the pot. Her mother wouldn’t notice something like that. It was already red from animal blood, or… whatever she cooked in there. Mel still hadn’t figured that one out.
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Halfway into the pot as she was, it was difficult to keep track of all of these things. She held onto the rim of the pot with her free hand, grinding her teeth in an effort to shut up. It was more like a sad whimper instead, to accompany the tears. But Mel wasn’t finished yet. There was still something there, in her eye. She could still see it, the knife she held onto as if her life depended on it. She wasn’t supposed to see it anymore. What did she have to do to make it stop??
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Her arm felt so heavy, the one holding the knife in her eye. The knife wasn’t very heavy, but it was harder to move this time. Pull the knife out, ignore the fluid that came with it, and cut again. This time, horizontally. She tried to make it methodical, but her hand didn’t listen to her. She couldn’t exactly feel it anymore. Her hand shook so violently; no, everything did. She saw that part.
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The last thing she remembered was the bottom of the pot coming closer to her face, only it took a long time. She thought it must have been an endless pot.
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Wait, did she remember to scream? …Oh right, not to scream. She could clean everything else, but she couldn’t scrub memories. If someone told Mom, she’d be…
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“...Lusi…k…”
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Mom? Why did you come back… what happened to my prayer?
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“Mel… Melusine. Melusine!”
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I really like the eye, by the way. It’s weird… but I like it. Where did you get it from? I hope we meet again someday. I’ll wear it and remember you. So I hope you’ll remember me. I don’t think anyone else will.
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“Melusine, how are you feeling?”
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That voice. It was the wrong one both times. She tried to wake up. Her left eye was the only one that listened. Maybe she did something right after all.
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“Nw hafh’drn… oh… sorry…” Her right eye hurt so much she almost couldn’t breathe. The High Priestess looked so worried. Angry? Mel was wasting her time again… it wasn’t supposed to be like that.
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“Nonsense, Melusine.” The dark-haired woman sighed. She sounded disappointed. “I came to check on you and I thought I heard something. You were passed out in your own blood, you… how could you do this to yourself? None of that was fixable. What even gave you the idea…”
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She felt a little giddy at that. And a little sad. Not fixable, that was good. She wanted to keep her old eye, but she was too messy. That was unfortunate.
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Mel wanted to tell Leucosia she had a third eye. A second, now? She thought Leucosia saw the gift already. ”Convenient…” she mumbled instead, ”that’s, convenient.” It came out more accusatory than she would have liked.
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“Yes, it was, thank the Lady. You could have died, Melusine. Your mother would have been devastated.”
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I might as well be a corpse that walks and talks, Melusine thought. The mention of her mother was enough to startle her into clarity. Her mother would be devastated? …What if she was counting on it? No, never mind a hypothetical like that… she was supposed to clean everything before anyone could see. She tried to get up from the bed -
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- only to be pushed back down. “You need to rest! Goddess forbid… I’ve taken care of everything, Melusine. You’re not allowed to move from here. I’ll ask someone to supervise you for me if I have to.”
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Oh, she didn’t want that. Someone would turn into everyone and then Mom. This was a threat. Besides… she really did bother the High Priestess for too long. Laying on a bed was one of the easiest things she could do.
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In the end, she got her eye. That was all that mattered.