Post by Mach2 on Aug 16, 2015 17:35:59 GMT
Anima
Name
At one point in time, there lived a woman known as Maia. Today, that woman is dead and gone. Only a spirit remains, and that spirit calls itself Anima.
Age
At the time she died, Maia was a young woman of twenty-two years. Anima has existed in her place for a little over a decade.
Gender
Female. Though her name is forgotten, Anima remembers that she was a woman.
Race
Is the ghost of a human still a human? Or is it something else entirely?
At one point in time, there lived a woman known as Maia. Today, that woman is dead and gone. Only a spirit remains, and that spirit calls itself Anima.
Age
At the time she died, Maia was a young woman of twenty-two years. Anima has existed in her place for a little over a decade.
Gender
Female. Though her name is forgotten, Anima remembers that she was a woman.
Race
Is the ghost of a human still a human? Or is it something else entirely?
Basic Appearance
Depending upon the circumstance, Anima's appearance varies greatly. When she walks the streets of Etirath, she is nothing. To nearly every individual she passes, she is invisible, no matter how much she tries to make herself seen.
The catacombs are the only place she can make herself visible. Anima's default appearance is the featureless figure of a young woman. She is translucent, with a shifting, smoke-like quality to her form. At will, she can change her appearance to resemble whoever she chooses.
Credentials
Abilities
- Telekinesis: With enough focus, Anima can manipulate the physical world. Her actions are similar to that of a poltergeist. Objects fall off of shelves. Lights go out. A cool breeze passes where she walks. She can even lift and carry light objects.
- Voice: To speak to mortals, it takes effort. Many are seemingly deaf to Anima's voice. But every now and then, she meets someone who can hear her if she screams loudly enough.
- Incorporeal: One of the perks of being a spirit is the fact that she is not limited by a physical body. Anima can drift through walls, and no one can touch or injure her.
- Shapeshifting: Anima can take on the appearance of the oldest man or the youngest girl, and shift smoothly between different forms.
Limitations
- Dawn's light: If the sun is above the horizon, Anima cannot leave the catacombs. She is forced to walk the streets of Etirath at night. Should she be outside her caves when the sun rises, she simply fades away, and reappears once more in the catacombs.
- Formless: When she is in her catacombs, Anima appear however she wishes to appear. But when she leaves...she is nothing. A well-trained shaman may be able to make out her form, but she is invisible to the average human.
Background
Purpose
The tale of Maia is merely a precursor to the tale of Anima. They are two different entities, bonded by nothing more than an identity that has been long lost. But in order to understand who Anima is, one must know who Maia was. So first, let us learn of Maia.
Over three decades ago, a child was born into the kingdom of Etirath. Her father was a trained battle mage. Her mother was a priestess of Milova. The girl was named Maia, and she was raised in a life of magic and worship. Her father taught her his gift, and she tried hard to fulfill his expectations. But while she was magically gifted, Maia was not a battlemage. Training with her father was a struggle, and she faced failure time and again. With her mother, she faced similar difficulties. Maia learned the story of the Divines, and studied the word of Milova, but she could never manage to love herself or others as effortlessly as her mother. For all her efforts, Maia was merely competent, where her parents were gifted. She would not follow in their footsteps.
The girl began to study independently, spending long hours in the kingdom's library. She lost herself in the heavy books, both fictional tales of heroes and nonfiction documents detailing the different types of magic. It took years, but eventually, Maia found her calling. She was a healer. Where she struggled with offensive magic, regenerative spells came as easily to her as breathing. Maia was excited, liberated. Her life had a purpose.
Now, she was free from the expectations of her parents. At the age of nineteen, Maia opened her own shop. She sold her services as a healer, for the most affordable prices she could reasonably get away with. On the same day she opened her shop, she also swore off of violence in any form. Never again would she struggle with offensive spells. Likewise, she renounced her worship of Milova, and swore to a life of celibacy. Never again would she attempt to force a love where it did not exist. She would love only her craft, and would devote herself solely to her work as a healer.
Peril
Over the years, Maia had grown into a rather beautiful young woman. Her skin was smooth and clear. Her hair was a rich shade of auburn, falling in loose waves past her shoulders. Her mother, as a priestess of Milova, had been certain that her daughter would find a loving man to marry. In fact, she had even began to arrange several courtships, until the day that Maia announced her vow of celibacy.
A beautiful woman had made the decision to never marry. For the potential suitors her mother had found, the news was more than disappointing. It was angering. It was unfair. A prize they had hoped to claim as their own had been robbed from them by fate. One man, a traveling warrior by the name of Eli who had settled in Etirath for early retirement, was particularly devastated by the news. He had been certain that he would be the one Maia would fall for. Years of fighting and violence had left him more than slightly unstable. For three years, he let himself dwell on his anger. It grew, becoming an untamable beast. Finally, Eli reached a conclusion. If Maia was selfish enough to keep herself from the men of the world, then she did not deserve to live in the world another day.
It was the middle of the night when he showed up at the woman's shop. He had a knife at his belt, and a violent lust in his soul. In the morning, customers to Maia's shop would find the front door kicked off its hinges. Maia made her home in the rooms upstairs, and worked on the ground floor. In the morning, one look in her bedchamber would reveal the events that had taken place. The sheets and blankets on her bed, normally perfectly made, were a tangled, violent mess. A bloody handprint on the door handle showed where Maia had fled the scene. More bloody streaks on the wall, as she stumbled down the hall and ran out onto the street.
Violated and wounded, Maia ran. She didn't stop, didn't look where she was going. She simply ran. Her panicked feet carried her far away from her home, to the catacombs beneath the city. There, exhaustion claimed her. She collapsed, and awaited death.
Pity
But death refused to come.
Maia lay in the damp darkness of the catacombs, half-submergd in a puddle of cold water, waiting in agony for the blackness to embrace her. After Eli had defiled her body, his knife had stabbed into her gut, leaving a wound that would be inevitably fatal. But death was slow. An hour after she collapsed, her heart still beat, and her wound still slowly bled.
For the first time in over a year, Maia prayed. She prayed first to Milova, the goddess of Divine love. But she heard no answer. Maia had renounced her worship to Milova years ago, and now Milova wouldn't hear her prayers. She tried to call out to Den. But the prideful Divine either could not, or would not, hear her pleas. Finally, the wound in her stomach burning and death still as elusive as ever, she cried for Pity.
And Pity heard her.
A solemn and peaceful voice answered Maia, asking what it was that she desired. Her answer was simple. "Let me die. End the pain. Please". And Pity indulged her. No sooner had Maia begged for death than she felt it coming. The puddle she was lying in grew. Cool water enveloped her body, covering her legs and arms, stinging as it touched the deep wound in her gut. She cried in pain, but even as she did so, the water was covering her head. It rushed past her eyes, and flooded her nose and mouth. Water, cool and deadly, filled her lungs. Maia could feel herself drowning, and suddenly a terror gripped her. This was the end. She would die here, suffocating on the catacomb floor, and no one would ever know what happened to her.
She screamed through the water, screamed for Sympati to stop. And again, the voice of Divine Pity sounded in her ears. "You beg me for death, and then reject my gift?" But this time, the voice was not peaceful. The solemn voice of Pity held an underlying anger. "You wish to remain in this world? Then remain. Remain forever."
The water surged around her, in a powerful current. Maia could feel herself being carried away, and she remembered no more.
Plight
This was the story of Maia. Now, that tale is ended. We may now learn of Anima, the spirit that took her place.
Sympati, offended by the human girl's rejection of the gift of death, cursed her instead to an eternal afterlife. The spirit of the drowned woman became a ghost, sentenced to live in the catacombs beneath the city. When Anima came into existence, she knew nothing. She did not remember who she was. She did not know who she had been. All that she had was a name, one she was certain was not her own. Anima, translated into English, meant 'spirit'. It was hardly a name. It was a title. For days after she awoke, Anima wandered the maze-like network of catacombs. They were empty, and she was alone. Finally, one evening, she ventured out, into the city. She called out to people on the street. But they did not hear her, and they could not see her. Every night, she would wander the kingdom. And at the first light of dawn, she would always find herself back in the catacombs.
The next years were spent growing accustomed to life as a spirit. Over time, she began to learn how to manipulate the physical world. She learned what she was capable of. And she learned her limitation, which became increasingly more frustrating as the years went on. Today, the superstitious speak of the ghost of Etirath, but no one has seen her for themself. Anima's nightly hauntings grow increasingly more obvious as she grows more and more desperate to make her presence known. Life is lonely for her.