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[F06 | SP] Purge, Release, Return... | <<Calming the Soul>>


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The night had passed slowly for Nymoria, unable to get any sleep. She’d confirmed to herself, upon her return from the wasp queen adventure, that she would do something in order to try and overcome whatever was happening to her. The quest had been easy enough to find details about, between the various information within the console and that which was available from information brokers for a small fee. None of it had helped her, though. In fact, she was certain it had only made her growing fear worse. A gnawing fear that seemed to flow through her every time she considered the quest, pulling away any sort of rest she may have gained during the dark hours of the night. Instead, she had remained awake and filled with thoughts as she tried to convince herself that she needed to take the quest. That she needed to rid herself of what was growing within her mind, trying to claw its way forward and tear from her everything that had been going so well, up until recently.

I should get up. Although she knew she should get moving, the exhaustion and overall lack of energy held her in place, her arms splayed to her side as she stared at the ceiling above her. As much as she willed herself to get moving, her body refused. As much as Nymoria wanted to blame it upon the exhaustion, she also knew that there was a part of her that wanted to avoid taking the quest, to remain in the limbo she had been in for the last few days, to avoid taking any action that could cause anything more. I can’t just sit here forever. I need to get up. I need to deal with it. Otherwise I’m just going to… She couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought, as if putting it to word would somehow bring it closer to reality.

It was enough to force her to move, however, as she rolled to her side and began to rise from the bed. She felt her head sway slightly as the dizziness hit her; the effects of the lack of sleep coming quickly and causing her to feel light headed. She knew that it would be a mistake doing anything in her current condition, but she felt there was a need to push forward. She placed a hand on the bed to steady herself as she tried to stop the flowing, moving image before her eyes. Maybe going too quickly is going to be a problem. Exhaustion leads to mistakes. Mistakes lead to death, in this world. Maybe I should give it a few more minutes, before I force myself into something…stupid. She sighed softly as she felt another wave of exhaustion sweeping over herself, and began to sway slightly. Oh. I’m not ready yet-

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Nymoria (2).png
Spoiler

Notes


Nymoria | Lv. 32 | P. 0 | HP [655/655] | EN [97/97] | ACC [5] | DMG [19] | EVA [4] | BH [+35] | Bleed [36] | Keen [+2 BD] | LD [+1]
Tier 3 | Tier 3


Equipment

  • Silence [Rapier | Tier 3]
    Enhancement: Bleed [1 Slot]
    Enhancement: Keen [2 Slots]
  • Ring of Evasion
    [Jewelry | Tier 1]
    Enhancement: Evasion [3 Slots] 
  • Hearing Aid
    [Trinket | Tier 1]
    Enhancement: Accuracy [3 Slots]

Battle-Ready Inventory

  • Uncommon Health Potion {5} [Potion | Tier 1 | Heals 5% Maximum HP]
  • Spyglass {1} | Reduce Search Posts x5 [Dungeon, Familiar, Field Boss] for one thread
  • bento {1} [Meal | Tierless | Oveerhealth III]
  • Teleport Crystal {1}
  • Honey Cookie {5} [Snack | Tier 1 | Vitality II]

Skills

Spoiler

Utility Skills
N/A

Combat Skills
Battle Healing [Rank: 5. 
Active: Passive. Effect: While in combat, recover 1% per rank of your maximum HP (rounded down) at the beginning of your turn.]
Energist [
Active: Passive. Effect: Increase base Energy by 5*Tier.]
Rapiers [Rank: 5. Active: Passive. Effect: +7 DMG]
[Rank 5 Weapon Addon] Stamina [
Active: Passive. Effect: Reduces EN of all attacks by 2.]
[Rank 5 Weapon Addon] Precision [
Active: Passive. Effect: +1 ACC.]
[Rank 5 Weapon Addon] Rapier Ferocity [
Active: Passive. Effect: +2 DMG when using the weapon of your choice. Players cannot use Focus and Ferocity at the same time for the same Weapon Type.]
[Rank 5 Shift] AOE Specialist [
Active: Passive. Effect: For the following Sword Arts, +4 to multipliers and +2 to EN cost; AoE-I, AoE-II. No other Shifts may be taken.]

Armour Skills
Unhindered [Active: Passive. Effect: +1 Accuracy, +1 Loot Dice, +1 Evasion, +5*Tier HP. Your mitigation is capped at 0 equipment slots.]

Active Extra Skills
Leadership [Rank: 1. Active: Passive. Effect: Gain access to Leadership Arts every rank. In order to use a Leadership Art, it must take up a mod slot. Each Leadership Art takes up a different mod slot. Leadership Arts from different sources do not stack.]
[Rank 1 Leadership Art] Elusive [Active: Post Action. Energy: 4 EN. Cooldown: 2 turns. Effect: Increase the Evasion of all players in your party by 1 for a single turn.]
[Rank 2 Leadership Art] Rally [Active: Post Action. Energy: 6 EN. 
Cooldown: 2 turns. Effect: Increase the Accuracy of all players in your party by 1 for a single turn.]
[Rank 3 Leadership Art] Steadfast [Active: Post Action. Energy: 8 EN. 
Cooldown: 3 turns. Effect: Status Effects that would be applied to the party for the next two turns would instead be applied to the user instead (normal rules for how status effects refresh instead of stacking apply).]
Survival [Active: Passive. Effect: Increases Healing effects received from all sources by 10%. Grants immunity to all damage dealing environmental attacks/effects.]

Inactive Extra Skills 
Concentration [Active: Free Action. Cooldown: 5 turns. Effect: As a free action, gain Absolute Accuracy on your next attack. In the case Absolute Accuracy is already present, increase your Accuracy by 1 instead. Effect lasts until the start of next turn.]
Frozen Hide [
Active: Free Action. Energy: 5 EN. Cooldown: 4 turns. Effect: As a free action, apply one slot of Frost Aura and one slot of Frost Thorns equal to your tier to yourself until the start of your next turn.]

Combat Mastery
Damage [Rank: 3. Active: Passive. Effect: Gain +1 * Tier additional Base Damage per rank. Ranks of this Skill obey Damage enhancement caps.]

Familiar Skills
Hunting Familiar [
Active: Free Action. Cooldown: 5 turns. : Effect: Your familiar has a nose for treasure. Roll LD/CD (without bonuses) as if you had slain a loot-minimum mob.]

Estate Buffs
N/A

Sword Arts

Spoiler

[x12] ST-I (12 10 EN) | A single-target sword art.
[x15]
ST-II (15 13EN) | A powerful single-target sword art. Only available for use when ST-I was used and successfully struck an enemy the previous turn or if ST-II had been used and had missed the previous turn.
[x20]
ST-B (20 18 EN) | A devastating single-target sword art. Can only be used if the sword art used the previous turn is not ST-B and had rolled a natural CD9+. When performing an AoE attack, this CD check applies to only the first roll.
[x15] AOE-I (13 11 + [2 * targets] EN) | AOE | A sword art that strikes multiple targets at once.
[x18]
AOE-II (16 14 + [2 * targets] EN) | AOE | A powerful sword art that strikes multiple targets at once. Only available for use when AOE-I was used and successfully struck an enemy the previous turn or if AOE-II had been used and had missed all intended targets the previous turn.
[x12] TECH-A (13 11 EN) | STUN | A single-target sword art that stuns an enemy.
[x12]
TECH-B (13 11 EN) | DELAY | A single-target sword art that, on a successful strike, applies [Delay] on the enemy. [Delay] is a debuff that reduces the enemy’s ACC by 1 for one turn.
[x8]
TECH-F (
8 6 + [2 * targets] EN) | AOE STUN | A sword art that strikes multiple targets at once. All struck targets are stunned for one turn.

Housing Buffs

Spoiler

Shizuka [Home]

Master Bedroom [-1 energy cost for the first three expenditures of each combat.]
Living Room [
Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.]

Atelier (Extended Workshop) [+2 Crafting EXP per crafting attempt & +1 crafting attempt per day.]
Greenhouse [+2 Gathering EXP per Attempt and additional +1 LD & CD to gathering attempts.]
Storage Closet [+1 Battle Ready Inventory Slot.]
Attic (Storage) [+5% bonus col from monster kills and treasure chests.]

 

 

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Sunlight had filtered in at some point, causing Nymoria to stir in the bed. She’d fallen asleep at some point, shocking herself into wakefulness only when the sun’s false rays had alighted across her closed eyes. She’d sat up abruptly, glancing around in confusion as she tried to figure out where she was, and what was happening. Her mind seemed sluggish and slow, likely an after effect of the unexpected rest that had consumed her in the last few seconds of her failed attempt to rise and leave the bed. Soft breathing caught her attention, and she looked down to see Musei having curled up beside her, his form tiny and comforting as everything came, slowly, back to Nymoria.

Musei had awoken at some point as she’d tried to collect herself, the weasel’s eyes staring up at her with what was likely a concerned tone to their muteness. She gave a half smile to the weasel, as if trying to comfort him and assure him that she was okay – but both knew that would be a lie. Nymoria was anything beyond okay, and the longer she stared down at her companion, the more she realised that she needed to get up and do something about her current state.

Pushing herself to her feet, Nymoria glanced out the window, realising just how much time had already passed into the day. It was well into the noon hours, and even from her current position within the inn she could see people moving across the streets, hurrying on whatever task they had for their day and moment. Biting her lip, she realised that she was meant to be one of those people, and that she had been delaying her inevitable escape from the room for far too long.

Let me just get ready, and then we can go, Musei. She signed towards the weasel, whose only response came in the form of a large yawn and sudden stretch, confirming that he was preparing himself in turn to leave the comfort of the bed. Nymoria paused only for a second, before turning away and gathering up the various items she’d left out the night before. Her digging into the calming the souls quest had been substantial, and yet she had learnt so little from it that she wondered if she were ready to face it at all. It doesn’t matter, now. You have to do this. You have no choice left, otherwise…it won’t matter. She disliked the sudden end to the thought, how it felt both final and incomplete all at the same time. It was a warning to her of what was to come, if she wasn’t more prepared – or if she failed to continue pressing forwards.

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Somehow, she’d managed to force herself from the bed and into a motion of momentum. It had taken her another hour to prepare everything, to eat and be on her way towards the sixth floor, but once Nymoria had started she found the steps came easily. It was a monotonous journey, and Nymoria found herself disassociating as she traversed the area. It was with a measure of surprise, and a slight bump, that she came out of her reverie and noticed she’d managed to follow the map directly to the waterfall that started the quest.

Waterfall of the Sage. Mediating beneath it supposedly starts the whole quest, and then I have to fight my inner demons. Defeat them, and I win. Lose to them, and…well, I guess let’s not think about that. When she said it in her head, it sounded simple. Easy, like there would be nothing more than a skill testing portion of a quest that she could overcome through level advancement alone. What she’d been told by the man in the bar, however, suggested that there was far more danger to it. Inner demons aren’t just a creature that gets loaded up by Cardinal. Each one is individualistic, responsive to the mindset of the person facing them…entirely personal. Which means…

Nymoria knew exactly what it meant. That she was going to be facing a representation of the horrors that had been plaguing her mind. This is why you took on this quest. The longer you stand here, holding yourself up, the longer it’s going to take for you to get over it all. She winced visibly, knowing that it was an accurate statement even if she disliked the truth behind it. Or you can just give up, like you always do. Crawl back into whatever hole you came out of, and just hide away. She shook her head in response to the voice, knowing exactly what it was and refusing to give in to it. She was surprised to find that the steady falling of the water onto rock below wasn’t anywhere near as overpowering as she would have expected, the sound almost calmingly rhythmic in nature.

Maybe this is why everyone comes here to meditate, because it’s so calming…just the environment itself. She’d spent only a few moments staring at the waterfall, considering the next step she had to take, before she pushed herself into motion. Crossing the open area, confirming that there was no one around to see, she stepped onto the rock and up to the edge of where the water splashed. A quick deep breath, and then she walked inside the water, fighting the urge to buckle beneath it before it became too much, and she dropped to her knees. Bowing her head, she focused her thoughts inwards, trying to find the thing that plagued her.

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Alright…here I am. Now what? Nymoria shifted slightly beneath the waterfall, having become accustomed to the feel of the water upon her shoulders. Everything she had learnt about the quest had directed her to this point, and then left her with nothing more than the fact that she would simply have to face her inner demons. A task which was, well, evading her at the moment. How does one call forth their inner demons? I know they say meditation, but…

At some point she had closed her eyes, letting the water fall down upon her as she thought about the quest, the requirements, and the inner demons that she was supposed to face. She knew that they would need to be called out from her, although she had no inclining of an idea as to how Cardinal would even do that. It’s an impressive system, but is it so impressive that it can take our internal conflicts and make them-

Her thoughts were interrupted by the parting of the water, her eyes opening in turn to find a body standing before it. The form leaned slightly down towards Nymoria, and for a single moment she thought it was some sort of mirage, or hallucination. The face that stared back at her was her own – one she had seen in the mirror every time she looked. Except, the normal smile was twisted into some form of ugly grin, staring down at her with a look that appearing far more condescending than it should’ve, somehow.

She hadn’t recoiled in fear, not yet, although she’d been tempted to when she first opened her eyes. The surprise had, somehow, stopped the immediate reaction – as if the fear had locked her into place, rather than into motion. She felt herself wince slightly at the realisation that it was likely a bad reaction, and yet her body remained frozen in place.

That’s because you’re a coward at heart. There’s no spine in you to let you run away. Nymoria’s eyes shifted as she looked around for the voice’s owner, before she saw the widening smile before her that only confirmed it had come from the mirror image facing her. It had been in her head, like a thought, and yet loud and clear enough to be someone else’s voice. You figured it out, and quickly. I never would have expected that level of capability, not from you. Now it’s time for you to die, coward.

----

Combat

Nymoria | Lv. 32 | P. 0 | HP [655/655] | EN [87/97] | ACC [5] | DMG [19] | EVA [4] | BH [+35] | Bleed [36] | Keen [+2 BD] | LD [+1] | -10 EN
First Inner Demon | HP: 0/163 | DMG: 95 | MIT: 4

ID234420 | BD: 10+5=15 | <<ST-I vs. First Inner Demon>> | Hit: [(19+2)x12-4] = 248 damage | Defeated.

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Nymoria moved before she knew what was happening, scrambling to her feet and backwards out of the water, trying to run away from the thing that had turned into a corrupted form of herself. She wanted nothing to do with it, nothing to have with the thing that wanted to consume her. She had no doubts in her mind that it wanted to do just that, to consume away every essence of her. She had no idea where the thought had come from, the feeling of it and assurance of it all, but she knew that if she remained seating and facing the thing, it would devour her like a spirit come to consume everything in its path.

The thing had leapt after her, its mouth opening in a wide motion as if to confirm Nymoria’s suspicions that it wanted to devour her entirely. Although she, realistically, knew that the mouth wasn’t anywhere near wide enough, the movement and action alone was enough to rattle her, and she found herself slipping as she reeled backwards away from it. Her form fell through the air as she lashed out with her arms, desperately trying to grab onto anything to stop her fall, only to feel the cold of the water splash around her as she fell into the pond bed itself.

You won’t get away that easily, coward! I will find you! I will consume you! I will rid the world of every last bit of you! You deserve nothing more, nothing less! You are pitiful! The words blasted Nymoria’s mind, consuming her and chipping away at her ability to think logically. She could feel the words in her mind, calling to the piece of her that she had worked so hard to hide away. To put in a corner of herself that she would never see again, never have to deal with. That’s what you do, isn’t it? You cower and hide and pretend. And leave it to everyone else! You’re no better than a rat! A rat that hides and cowers and skitters about away from the light, refusing to do anything for itself! You’re a waste, a stain upon the world! It would be better if you weren’t apart of it!

Nymoria wanted to shriek, but the water around her kept her from doing so. She was falling further and further into the pond, a mere millimetre at a time as the water cushioned her, dragging her down to its depths in an icy grip that felt all the more comforting. She could see, as if from a blurred distance, the form above the water, staring down towards her with that same grin upon its face. Nymoria wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull herself up, to fight for life…and yet she felt tired. Wouldn’t it be good to just…let go? Let yourself drift away…let all these problems…end.

She shook herself suddenly, a familiar voice calling out even as she sank further and further towards the embracing darkness. A voice that had, once before, saved her from the pull of the finality, the desire to end it all. Come back to us!

Nymoria’s hand moved quickly and slowly through the water, grasping the sabre’s handle before pulling it from its sheathe. Either over confident, or unable to see as clearly as Nymoria expected, the thing above the surface stared down unmoving. The grasp on the sabre’s handle tightened as Nymoria pushed upwards, driving the point out of the water – shallower than she had originally thought – and into the creature that had taken her face. She rose with the blade, coming to a stand in the water beside the creature, driving the blade to its hilt into its form. The grin never disappeared from its face, and it turned to Nymoria with a glint in its eyes, as if both impressed and shocked by what she had done.

You may have overcome me, but more will come. More will face you. More will consume you. You are a coward. Pathetic, at the core. You won’t survive. In a flash of shards the thing disappeared, confirming for Nymoria that it had been a creation of Cardinal, and yet something more. The shards glowed a distinct red and purple, a shocking contrast to the regular rainbow colours of the system. The words echoed around in her head, driving something into place as Nymoria shuffled on her feet out of the water, sabre in hand as she stared at the spot where the thing had been standing mere seconds ago.

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She shook herself off, trying to rid most of the water and return some form of warmth to her form. The water had been icy cold, and Nymoria could still feel it moving down her back – a feeling that was, certainly, less than comfortable. Mixed in with the words that the thing had spoken, Nymoria found herself shivering slightly, trying to do anything but dwell on it. They had been familiar words, now that she thought back on it, words which she had spoken to herself only in the darkest of nights. But words she had spoken, true enough. Somehow, hearing it coming from another form – not a person, but something else – had shaken her more than she would have expected.

It’s because it wasn’t just in my head anymore. They were real words. Stated by the system, torn form my mind…maybe. But real nonetheless. And that’s… Nymoria didn’t need to finish the thought to know what it was. Terrifying. Terrifying, to know that she was so easily understood, and so easily corrupted. She felt herself shake again, this time from the thoughts and realisations, more than the cold and chill. She wanted to go home, to return to everything as it was, to leave this area behind, but her feet were rooted to the spot – unwilling, or incapable, or moving.

This is what you do every time you face danger. Every time you face something that you can’t strike out at, or be nice to. Everything that drives you towards facing your biggest enemy…yourself. Her head slowly turned to find a similar form of herself standing a few steps away and to her left. Unlike the first apparition, this one wore a smile that seemed so similar to her own – and yet the eyes seemed to burn with a desire. A similar desire, in many ways, to the devouring grin. Terrifyingly normal, in so many ways, and yet so obviously dangerous to Nymoria. You know this is what you want. What you deserve. Why do you fight it? Why do you try and escape it? You, who has done nothing but hide behind others. You, who has done nothing in your life but take and take and take…you even tried to take your own life, but couldn’t do that. Is there anything you can do yourself?

The left foot of the thing slid slightly forward, and Nymoria found herself mimicking the movement in the opposite direction, wanting nothing more than to keep distance between her and it. She lifted her sabre slightly, bringing it to bear and readying herself, only to notice as it copied her movement. The moment wasn’t lost on her, as Nymoria realised that the two were mirroring their movements, as if she were facing a mirror and acting against it. What…what is this?

----

Combat

Nymoria | Lv. 32 | P. 0 | HP [655/655] | EN [81/97] | ACC [5] | DMG [19] | EVA [4] | BH [+35] | Bleed [36] | Keen [+2 BD] | LD [+1] | +3 EN | -10 EN
Second Inner Demon | HP: 0/218| DMG: 125 | MIT: 6

ID234421 | BD: 5+5=10 | <<ST-I vs. Second Inner Demon>> | Hit: [19x12-6] = 222 damage | Defeated.

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Nymoria’s movements came suddenly as she leapt forward, attempting to close the distance, only to find the mirror image of herself leaping backwards as if it knew exactly what she was going to try and do. It was only after she had completed the maneuver that she realised the issue she was going to have facing this version of herself – it knew exactly what she was going to do, as soon as Nymoria herself wanted to do it. It’s like it can read my min-

She stopped her thought as she saw the knowing grin spread across its face, confirming her suspicions before anything could even be said. She cursed in her mind, suddenly feeling a tinge of fear as she realised they would be stuck in a deadlock of movement and counter movement if she didn’t find a way to break the seeming connection that they had. She wrinkled her brow as she tried to focus, tried to think of something that would allow her to overcome the thing before her.

There it is…the desperate desire to free yourself. And yet, look! You’re thinking of calling on someone else, aren’t you? Calling for help, in the hopes that they can get you free! Nymoria snarled, knowing that she had been doing just that. She’d been considering reaching out to someone on her list, an information broker, who could possibly give her an answer to the conundrum she had found herself in. She had assumed, apparently obviously, that the thing wouldn’t attack her if she didn’t first launch an attack. How wrong you are…as usual.

The thing moved towards her, the sabre coming up in a movement contrasting Nymoria’s own. The blade swung close towards her, Nymoria’s agility barely letting her avoid being struck as it sailed just beyond the reach of her nose. She felt herself slip backwards, catching herself only barely as her feet fought for traction on the wet surface of the rocks. Shit! That was close! So it can move outside of mirroring my own movements…that makes this even worse! She was struggling to remain calm, to keep control of herself as she watched the mirror image suddenly take up position across from her, mimicking her ready stance in an almost insulting manner. She bit her lip as she waited, wondering if it would grow tried and try and engage with her once more.

So desperate. So obvious. You can’t do anything without someone else’s help, can you? Not even without the help of your enemy. Why don’t we just stand here until we all die, then? The thing grinned as Nymoria scowled again, realising that her plan had been read all too easily. She wanted to scream, to smash and stab something, to let her frustrations out – and she could see that the thing before her was aware of it. She was entirely helpless to its taunting and tampering, with nothing she could do. [color=#b768a2]Unless…[/color]

The thought had occurred suddenly, and Nymoria didn’t let it develop fully in her mind. Instead, she sprung forward, launching herself towards the thing in a sudden attempt to do something. The thing met her, blade coming up to counter Nymoria’s strikes in succession. The two danced on the spot for a moment, the footsteps mirroring images of one another as they tried to overpower the other through mimicked and mirrored movements. It took Nymoria a few moments, but she realised the pattern as she continued to stab and slash at the thing, the way that it seemed to anticipate her movements, rather than to read them or know them. It’s not mimicking, it’s copying.

It was all Nymoria needed in order to gain an advantage. The thing wasn’t reading her mind, or following her thoughts in any way. It knew her, but only so much as to know her regular combinations and motions, the way in which she attacked and reacted. Like someone who had studied an enemy, only to learn the pattern of its attacks. I can do this! She shifted suddenly, dropping her blade downwards in an awkward motion. The movement caught the thing off guard, and Nymoria saw the single moment of opening as it tried to understand what had happened, uncertain at the sudden change. Her sabre sprung forward, impaling itself into the chest of herself – an odd image to her eyes, she would realise belatedly.

You…do not think…that this changes anything. You are worthless. Luck, does not make you better. You are nothing more than a mistake. A mistake…which never should have…existed… The thing shattered into non-existence, disappearing and leaving Nymoria standing with the blade extended, and a sudden drop in her gut.

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Her eyes shifted around, looking for any signs of the thing she had so easily defeated, knowing that it was, somehow, far from being over. The words had burned into her mind, causing her distress, but she had overcome them so easily. It had almost seemed…pathetic, in a way. As if the system was only challenging her with small measures of her consciousness, small measures of how evil she could be towards herself. Nymoria knew that she shouldn’t question it, but considering the reason that she had originally come here, she wondered if it weren’t taking it easy on her.

I cannot overcome this if I do not face it fully! Stop playing with me! You’re supposed to fix it! To give me the chance to face it all, and overcome it! Isn’t that what your purpose is?! She wanted to scream towards the sky, to curse Cardinal for making it too easy. She knew that it was nothing more than a game, a system designed to act and respond to the environment and players, and everything within it. Yet, some part of her had expected more. I can’t…I can’t do it alone. I need help. I…I need you do to something. Fix me!

Even as she thought it, she knew what she was asking. What she was confirming. Everything that the last mirror image of herself had said came back, as if trying to smack her in the face. The words echoed in her mind, the reliance on others. Everything she already knew. She was doing it again with this quest, she was relying upon something else to take all her problems away, rather than facing them head on. She’d only taken the quest in the desperate hope that it would solve everything that was wrong with her.

Because I can’t do it by myself…I can’t… She wanted to cry, to give up right on the spot. She felt herself swaying slightly, as if it was all too much. As if her body was going to give out beneath her, to simply let her fall on the spot and never move again. Nymoria couldn’t help but wonder, if only for a single second, if that would be such a bad thing. At least then she wouldn’t be causing problems for other people. At least then they could go on without having to drag her along, like some sort of weight used to hinder them.

Then perhaps…you should consider how much better they would be without you. The voice was soft, reminding Nymoria of the ways in which books often described them as silky. There was a texture to it, within her mind, that seemed somehow pleasant. A touch to it that made her want to listen, to hear it out. To know what it had to say, in case it was important. Perhaps…perhaps you’re right. Perhaps everyone would be better off without you…what little you have done, could you even call it…momentous? Impactful? Perhaps…perhaps a few would cry once you were gone. Some will, I’m sure…some always do. But…are they crying because you’re gone, or because they failed you?

Something in the way that the voice said it caused Nymoria to listen closer. She’d closed her eyes at some point, as if trying to shut out the world around her. Not that it would help, she knew. Still, she found herself curious at the voice, drawn in by it. There was no aggression to it, no hatred. It spoke only as if it were stating a fact, a fact that she should know the answer to, already. And yet…it was coaxing, welcoming, and unlike the voices that had come before it. Where they had been brutal, brunt, destructive, this one promised softness, like a touch that caused a shiver down a back. Nymoria found herself drawn into it, putting up no resistance as she waited to hear its next words.

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The voice didn’t return for a few moments, and Nymoria found herself prying her eyes open in order to search for its source, as if to confirm whether it had ever truly been there, or not. She didn’t have to look far, spotting another mirage of herself seated across from her, legs dipped in the water as if relaxing at the pool, or baths. There was no cruelty on its face as the others had contained, no desire to consume or cause harm. If anything, Nymoria would say that it looked almost…apologetic, or concerned. As if it wanted to nothing more than to help her, to ease her away from the pain and suffering that it knew she was experiencing.

Nymoria found herself shifting on the spot, suddenly drawn into the desire to reach out to it, to call for help. The aura coming off the figure seemed to almost call to Nymoria, as if trying to embrace her. She found herself unable to resist any longer, and stumbled to her feet, crossing the distance and standing beside the figure, waiting to hear what else it would have to say.

Sit, if you would. It was not what Nymoria had expected to hear. There was no deterrence, no attempt to shoo her away, or to attack her. There was no despise, either. Slowly, still cautious, she settled beside the figure, curling up her legs so as to keep them out of the water. The figure seemed to play absentmindedly with the water for a moment, causing ripples as a finger prodded its surface, before eventually speaking again. You cause nothing but pain and suffering to those around you…hardships created by your very existence…hardships that you knowingly make. It may not be your fault…but because of you, people have to adjust. To be different. To accept you. You, who are broken. You, who have nothing to offer them – except hardship, pain and suffering. What good do you bring into their lives?

Nymoria remained silent. She knew the answer already, and knew that the question was nothing more than rhetorical. A means to draw her towards an already known determination. She wanted to ignore it, to turn away from it, to deny it. Yet she found herself silent. Incapable of doing…anything. The words found a way into her mind, paralysing any attempt to deny them. There was no tone that suggested displeasure, or a desire to cause harm, and yet Nymoria found the words crawling into the depths of her mind, drawing out a portion of her that seemed to respond in kind. A portion of her that knew the truth behind them, the fact that they were an accurate descriptor that could be applied.

You know that, don’t you? You only bring problems to others. You’re no solution, no help. You don’t provide anything…except for more work, more considerations, more…hatred. There was no change to the tone, and yet somehow the final cut deep into Nymoria’s psyche. She could feel herself recoil in response, wincing as she fought back the tears that were threatening the corner of her eyes. Everyone hates you, how could they not? Did you expect them to take pity, and not learn to hate you? They are required to change…themselves, their ways of doing things, everything. They must adjust, to you. How could that not create hatred…? How could it not cause them to feel disgust every time they see you…?

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Nymoria had been shocked into stillness, her entire frame locking up as she stared into the water before her. She could see the reflection of her own face, paled with the pressure of everything she was hearing, from inside her head and without. She could feel herself shaking slightly, the gravity of the situation reaching to the very nerves of her core, destabilising what few defences against the darkness she may have put up.

You can see it, right there. Look into the water…see the truth. No one wants you, no one needs you. They cling to you only because they feel like they must. It is the nice thing to do, to that which is broken…few have the courage to toss it away, like it should be. Nymoria found herself leaning forward slightly, coming closer and closer to the water’s surface. She was drawn to it, pulled by some force that she couldn’t see, and yet had grasped her with the intent of pulling her beneath the surface. To a release. Would it not be kinder to give in? To let them have what they always desired? To be rid of the problem that has plagued them, all those you have ever hindered, drawn backwards…held back. All those who you have impacted. Would it not be kinder to rid them of the thing that causes so much pain and suffering, without end?

For the first time, the voice had changed. A slight tone on a single word, but one that was entirely out of character for the otherwise silky, soothing voice. A single tone that seemed to hunger. Nymoria couldn’t describe it as anything else, but as she leaned closer and closer to the water, she suddenly noticed something. Small tendrils of thread, rising from the water’s depths and wrapping themselves around her; pulling her down towards the eventual darkness that would be beneath the surface’s edges.

Give in to it, let it consume you…let it take you away, take away all this pain. All this suffering. This existence, which has brought you nothing but horror and dread. Give in to it all…and realise that you were meant to do this. You were meant to reach this moment, and this moment alone… The cadence of the words had sped up suddenly, as if a person speaking about food while getting closer to a meal. Nymoria could sense the change, and yet she found herself questioning. Questioning if it was worth fighting anymore. The thing beside her had spoke in hushed tones, warming and welcoming. But it hadn’t spoken any lies. It had, in fact, spoken exactly what Nymoria had always known. The words that she had never dared to give any life to, lest they push her beyond the edge of despair. Words that she had, deep within her soul, found chilling.

Chilling, because they are truth. You cannot hide anymore. You cannot hide what you are…what you do to people. You cannot ignore the impact you have…and the lack of impact your disappearance would cause. Who would look? Who would care?

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The water touched Nymoria’s nose as she came face to face with it, her torso burning from the odd position she’d leaned into without moving. She stared at her own eyes, seeing the thoughts upon them in a way that she couldn’t quite describe. A part of her screamed inside, trying to get her to move, to resist, to pull away. Yet Nymoria could feel that portion of her dying off, as if drifting away across the distance, moving further and further until it was almost too quiet to hear.

She felt a hand upon her shoulder, gentle but firm as she turned to see the figure beside her smiling down at her. It was a gentle smile, a welcoming smile. Not the sort of smile that had been on the monsters she’d faced before. This one was friendly, as if trying to put her at ease. That’s the smile I always wear. The realisation caused a shiver down Nymoria, a sign that she would have listened to had she not already been drawn into the web that was her current situation.

You know what you have to do. Beyond the surface lies the finality, the ending that you deserve. The ending that you have waited so long for…one that you tried to attain once, but couldn’t. Now…you have a chance to make it all right. A slight pressure from the palm of the hand moved Nymoria again. It didn’t shove, it didn’t force, but it gave her the forward momentum that had been failing her, driving her towards the depths of the water. She felt as the water washed over her face once more, slowly causing her hair to swim around her as the rest of her head followed. Cold touched her shoulders as they submersed themselves, quickly followed by the rest of her form. She felt a single, final touch of warmth as her toes left the air behind and joined her, before she was floating beneath the surface, staring at the darkness that was the bottom of the pond.

It’s so easy… She almost marvelled at the fact that it would be so simple to slip away, to leave everything behind. To simply give in and let her body do what needed to be done. What she had never had the mental strength to do. All I needed was the right guidance…the final words that would lead me where I belonged… Nymoria would’ve sighed if she weren’t beneath the water, a tension releasing from her body as she gave in to the understanding that she could end it all here. That she wouldn’t need to face any more floor bosses, any more judgemental individuals, or party members. She wouldn’t need to face anyone, ever again.

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Her eyes had closed, losing the energy required to remain open as she had let herself drift further and further into the depths. She had given up fighting, given up on anything beyond simple floating down. There was no need anymore, nothing that held her to the continuous torment that had become life. Nothing that would keep her from drifting into the darkness, and disappearing from the lives of all those she had tormented. No one will miss me, no one will mourn me. I can rest, in peace, knowing that I am nothing but a forgotten name, engraved upon a stone that will never be read.

A flash across her mind drew her in, curiosity getting the best of her. She wondered what she would see as her life faded away. She’d always been told that one’s final moments replayed their lives before their mind’s eye, and Nymoria found herself curious to see what she would be presented with. Just more confirmation that my life was nothing more than a waste, probably.

Whatever she had been expecting, the image of her sister wasn’t it. The long dark brown hair, the soft eyes and slight smile staring at her. A look that was filled with a love that Nymoria had always questioned, seemingly trying to pierce through to her. Against her better will and judgement, she found herself smiling in response, the muscles moving without any desire from Nymoria. Her sister’s expression had always done that to her, bringing her into a state of content whenever the darkness had crept closer.

If that’s true, then why do you always fight it? Why don’t you see that you’re wanted? That we love you, for who you are? The voice was her sister’s, and Nymoria found herself shocked for a moment. The words weren’t anything she had remembered being told, nothing that she thought her sister had said before. In fact, they somehow felt new, although Nymoria couldn’t explain why. You hate yourself, for something that isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault. You’re perfect the way you are, even if you’re not like everyone else. We don’t want you gone…we want you back.

Nymoria felt herself shake her head, as if trying to deny the words. They didn’t sound right, they didn’t feel right, even though she knew it was exactly what her sister would say. She felt a pressure at her back suddenly, a soft, gently force pushing her further downwards. A hand. Nymoria turned to look, noticing her own hand pushing her further into the depths, as if trying to keep her down. As if working to ensure that she wouldn’t return. This is the right thing…but why…?

If it is right, then why am I here trying to stop you? Like I did last time. Like I’ll do every time. Nymoria lurched in response, the reality hitting her suddenly as everything snapped into place.

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She spun suddenly, kicking out against the thing that had held her down. It was pushed backwards, caught off guard by the sudden fight that Nymoria unleashed even from beneath the water. She could feel the burning in her lungs, the obvious sign that she was running out of air. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been under water, but as she erupted from the surface, she found herself coughing in pain as she forced the buildup from her lungs. She rolled onto the rocky surface, holding onto the edge of it as her feet dangled into the water, unable to do more than getting her torso out of the depths.

You will not get away this time. You deserve this, and I will give you what you deserve! The thing snarled, all pretence and kindness gone from its visage. Nymoria could see the hunger in its eyes, the way in which it wanted nothing more than to bring her to an end – an end that she had almost willingly accepted. I was saved by her again. How many times… She didn’t have time to finish the thought as the form of her mirage-self slammed into her, forcing her back into the water and below the surface. Nymoria fought against it, punching and pushing in a desperate attempt to unlock the hands that held her below.

Calm. Calm….control is what you need. Think. You’re better than this! Smarter than this! You can do it, Nym! The nickname flicked something within Nymoria’s mind, a name that only her sister had ever used with her. She felt herself stop struggling, her arms falling to her side as she considered what she could do, what would get her free from the embrace that was going to kill her. She could feel the internal battle within her mind, the desire to let it all end here, to simply drift away again, forever. Yet her sister’s voice drove her forwards, drove her to continued survival. For what, she didn’t know, but she knew that she couldn’t ignore it. Couldn’t betray it.

A sudden twist and the sabre was in Nymoria’s hand, drawn slowly from the scabbard that held it, before thrusting up towards the surface of the water. She had no intent to put the energy behind it that suddenly flowed outwards, and yet her movements had naturally activated the sword art, causing it to push harder than Nymoria’s form could naturally expel.

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Combat

Nymoria | Lv. 32 | P. 0 | HP [655/655] | EN [86/97] | ACC [5] | DMG [19] | EVA [4] | BH [+35] | Bleed [36] | Keen [+2 BD] | LD [+1] | +0 EN | -11 EN
Third Inner Demon | HP: 98/328| DMG: 190 | MIT: 10 | Stunned

ID234422 | BD: 9+5=14 | <<Tech-A vs. Third Inner Demon>> | Hit: [(19+1)x12-10] = 230 damage | Stunned

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She felt her blade impact something above her, the sudden jerk as whatever it had struck pulled back, and then she was free. The hands released her, drifting off to the side as something heavy splashed into the water beside her. Nymoria hesitated only long enough to confirm that she was released, before exploding from the water. Her mouth opened as she gasped for air, spitting out the remnants of the water that she had swallowed when she had been pushed beneath the surface again.

Her eyes spotted the form of the mirage that had attacked her, floating just beneath the surface. It took Nymoria a moment to realise it wasn’t moving due to the stunned effect that her strike had caused, pushing it into the water beside where she had been mere seconds before. She breathed a shaky sigh, wondering if she had managed to overcome the challenge already, wondering if she would be able to leave now, or if she would be forced to endure the torture of this existence until she truly gave up.

A twitch of movement caught her attention, and Nymoria saw the form of the mirage beginning to twitch, the stun wearing off and the realisation that it had been submersed clearly causing it distress. Nymoria didn’t wait for it to emerge from the depths, instead moving to meet the thing as it tried to rise. She stepped to the side, moving closer to the area that the thing was trying to escape from, bringing her foot up and slamming down on the water’s surface exactly where the thing was rising. She felt as her foot connected with something, causing a vibration up the length of her leg and spine.

I may not deserve to live, but I owe it to her to survive this! Even if it means tormenting everyone else, even if it means being a nuisance! This isn’t about me! She screamed within her head as she brought her foot up and down again, feeling the impact on the thing below her, as she tried to drive it back into the depths and away from her.

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Combat

Nymoria | Lv. 32 | P. 0 | HP [655/655] | EN [79/97] | ACC [5] | DMG [19] | EVA [4] | BH [+35] | Bleed [36] | Keen [+2 BD] | LD [+1] | +0 EN | -10 EN
Third Inner Demon | HP: 0/328| DMG: 190 | MIT: 10 | Stun Immunity [1/3]

ID234423 | BD: 8+5=13 | <<ST-I vs. Third Inner Demon>> | Hit: [19x12-10] = 218 damage | Defeated.

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Her breath came calmly, all things considered. Nymoria stared down at the place where her mirror image had lain mere seconds ago, destroyed beneath the heel of her boot as she had taken out…something, upon it. She wasn’t quite sure what to call the emotion. It hadn’t quite been anger, nor frustration. There was no shaking, uncontrollable rage within her that was teeming to get out – in fact, if she were to look inside herself she would almost say there was nothing at all. No feelings, towards what she had just done. If anything, I feel empty. She frowned slightly, wondering if that was such a good thing to be feeling, considering what she had done.

It had been nothing, in the moment, to tear away at the thing that had been trying to end her. Easy, in fact, when she stopped to consider it. She wanted to say that she despised it, that she despised the actions that she had taken – and yet, as she stopped and thought about her heel impacting the skull of the digital recreation of herself, the only thing that Nymoria could feel sorry about, was the fact that she had been the one to survive.

Shouldn’t I be…happy? Shouldn’t I be proud that I…but why? What good is there in my survival? What does it bring to this world? She’d curled up on the rock at some point, refusing to look at the spot anymore. Focusing instead on the backs of her arms wrapped around her knees, pulling herself close together. There were no tears – tears were for things that were sad, that caused emotion. Tears were not for her. No one would notice…no one would care…they’d be happy, wouldn’t they?

She felt herself bite her lip, the words repeating in her mind as an ever familiar feeling flowed to the forefront of her conscious. She wanted to ignore it, to drive it away like she always did, but the exhaustion of the events left her defenceless. Momentum gaining as it realised there was no resistance, the words became louder and closer, edging ever forward as they tried to consume her mind.

You could end it all so easily. A single moment beneath the waves, a leap off the edges…and then everyone would be free. Everyone would be able to move forward, without you tying them down anymore. You could cut the ties that hold them back…that keep them from joining the frontlines, from escaping this world…because that’s what you do, isn’t it? You hinder people. Like your mother. Like your sister. Who has ever benefited from your existence? Who has ever gained anything from you? The words flowed out, trapped for so long that they were released with a mental shock that caused Nymoria to squeeze her eyes shut. There were no tears, and yet her body shook with a violence that could’ve been mistaken for crying.

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Ending it would be easier, wouldn’t it? But where would be the point in that…you would only cause more pain, more suffering on those around you. Nymoria shifted at the sound of the voice in her head. She knew, without looking up, that it would simply be another mirage of herself, speaking to herself with the entire point of trying to drive her further into despair. That didn’t stop the voice from continuing. Think of all the people who would have to attend your funeral, to show their sadness at your loss…even if they don’t feel it. They’d need to pretend…think of how hard that would be on them.

Nymoria wanted to ignore the voice, and yet she felt her mind responding to it. Thoughts pouring out of her, doubts that anyone would even show up – and yet the knowledge that they would, if only due to their diligence in attending. A social requirement, even if they didn’t want to be there. She felt herself shake again, in response, the realisation that even her death wouldn’t stop the pain, suffering and impact that she had upon other people. The way in which she continued to incur herself into their lives, against their will. A drag that continued to cause only turmoil and problems.

You see it, don’t you? The way in which you cannot escape…the way in which you are nothing more than a hindrance. A problem to be smiled at, to be told it’s fine, that we accept you and love you. You know the truth though, don’t you? Nymoria looked up suddenly, realising that the voice wasn’t her own – familiar, but not her own. She saw the image of her sister, standing before her, the normally welcoming and loving eyes shifted to a measure of hatred that she had always imagined, yet never seen. The visage broke something within herself. I always told you that, didn’t I? How I cared. How I wanted nothing but your happiness. How I wanted you to keep living…foolish, wasn’t I?

Nymoria found herself moving, suddenly. She crawled backwards, trying to get away from the thing before her. The thing that she had feared, since she’d first had the thoughts. The hatred from her family, the hatred from the one thing that had kept her going – and now it faced her, as real as any image she’d created in her mind. She wanted to escape it, to run away from it. She knew that she couldn’t bear to hear it, to face it now.

It’s not real. It’s not real! It’s not real! She shouted the words in her mind, wrapping her hands around herself even as she tried to shut out the voice of her sister, tried to pretend that it wasn’t there. It was futile, she knew, and yet she found herself crawling inwards, trying to avoid it all.

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The form of Akane moved towards her, reaching out a hand as if in offering. Nymoria wanted to reach up, to take it and accept the help that was being offered, but something in the thing’s eyes seemed to threaten her. A desire to cause…something, and it scared Nymoria. Almost as much as the words that her sisters form has said; words that Nymoria had known to be true for far too long. She wanted nothing more than to run, to escape, to get away from everything…and yet she was drawn in, pulled up as her sister placed a hand upon her form, lips drawing back into a smile as Nymoria stared at her.

It’s fitting, isn’t it? That you would have to face me at the end. That I would be the one to confirm everything you already knew. That I hated you. That mom hated you. That everyone hated you. That you brought nothing more than pain, torment, and suffering to our days. She laughed suddenly, causing Nymoria to twitch in response. It wasn’t her sister’s laugh, it was something else entirely. But Nymoria was too far gone to realise it, to recognise the demon for what it was. She was enraptured by the words. Did you really think there was any way we could love you? A worthless thing, a thing to be discarded and forgotten. Except you won’t let us forget, will you? You drag us on. In school, I always had to protect you. To lose my friends, because you needed my help. To lose my own time, because someone needed to talk to you, and you didn’t have a way other than through me. How much of my life did you waste? How much did you take away from me? I would’ve been better off if you’d never existed. But I wasn’t so lucky, was I? You tainted our family with your stain, your disability. Your brokenness. You tore apart everything good, and left only torment behind. And now…now you come crawling for help again. Crawling, like the filth that you are.

The hand grasped Nymoria by the front of her shirt, pulling her up onto her feet. She felt the sudden jerking sensation as her arms fell to her side. Limply, she stared at her sister, the eyes staring back at her filled with a rage that was both fitting, and unnatural on the otherwise caring expression. Nymoria wanted to look away, to turn her eyes to anything else. She was held from doing so, however, by the knowledge that it wouldn’t help. The knowledge that she needed, that she deserved, to hear what was said next.

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Pitiful. Weak. Useless. These are the words to describe you. The words that you’ve always hidden away. That we’ve always hidden away. Maybe you should die here. Maybe being trapped in this world is better for us. At least we can forget about your existence. The form suddenly released Nymoria, and she dropped to the ground. Her knees impacted the hard stone, and yet Nymoria found no pain. She was numb, within and without, as she looked down at the ground. The figure before her moved back, slightly. For the first time since it’s appearance, it fell silent, as if waiting to see what Nymoria would do.

Do? What is there to do. She’s right. I’ve…she’s right, in everything. For the first time, she felt the tears welling at the side of her face. They were soft, and warm, and flowed with a small pause. She wanted to call them tears of sorrow, or pain, or anything, but she knew that none of it was accurate. They were, as she abruptly realised, tears of truth. Truth that she had buried within herself, long ago. Truth that showed her what her worth in the world was.

Do you really believe that I would say any of this? The voice was identical to the one that had been talking to Nymoria for the past few moments, and yet the tone of it was different. Somehow, it seemed more like her sister – a sister that Nymoria had known for so many years. It wasn’t filled with anger, or frustration, or hatred. Not in the way that the apparition before her was. Do you really believe this is true? Have we not proven our love for you…?

Nymoria wanted to say something, anything. But the words were lost to her. She was torn, entirely, listening to the two voices. A part of her may have known that the mirage was nothing more than her own subconscious, speaking words to her that she had long kept hidden in her mind, that her sister had never spoken – and may never speak. Yet, she also couldn’t ignore them. They cut deep into her, tearing apart a piece of her that she had kept cared for, a piece of her that she had strived to save. If only for her sister’s sake.

Then don’t give up on it! Don’t give up on me! Like I didn’t give up on you! Fight, Nym! Fight it! She didn’t want to fight anymore, no matter what her sister said. Or the voice of her sister, as it may be. Yet her body moved of its own volition, taking the command and grasping sabre in hand. Nymoria moved suddenly, drawing the blade and stabbing outwards towards the mirage, her eyes blank and empty as she seemed to move through muscle memory alone.

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Combat

Nymoria | Lv. 32 | P. 0 | HP [655/655] | EN [86/97] | ACC [5] | DMG [19] | EVA [4] | BH [+35] | Bleed [36] | Keen [+2 BD] | LD [+1] | +0 EN | -11 EN
Fourth Inner Demon | HP: 217/491| DMG: 285 | MIT: 14 | Stunned Bleed [36 | 1/2]

ID234511 | BD: 10+5=15 | <<Tech-A vs. Fourth Inner Demon>> | Hit: [(19+2)x12-14] = 238 damage | Stunned Bleed [36 | 1/2]

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The sabre slammed into the side of the mirage, sending it flying. For a brief second, Nymoria swore she saw something horrid beneath the image of her sister, a blackened thin that flowed and ebbed like a creature from the abyss come to life. Almost as quickly as she’d spotted it, it was gone however, replaced by the form of her sister once more. It was enough, however, to remind Nymoria that the thing before her wasn’t her, that it was nothing more than her own thoughts come to life – as appalling and damaging as those thoughts may be to hear.

You think defeating me changes anything? That it suddenly makes you whole again? You were never whole! You were always broken! Always! The thing sudden screamed, its form unmoving as the stun held it in place. It stared at Nymoria, eyes burning with a hatred that she couldn’t quite avoid. Although she knew that it wasn’t her, the face of her sister stared at her, and Nymoria found herself hesitating again. You’ll fail, just like you always do! You can’t succeed against your darkness, you never will! It will consume you! I will consume you!

Nymoria shifted suddenly, bringing her sabre up and level, entering her fighting stance. She knew that she would not find peace within the quest, that she would not find the answers to salvation that she had come looking for – but she also knew that she owed it to her sister to not give up. Not yet. I know the truth, I’ve always known it…but if I give up now…if I fail now, I taint every good action she has ever done for me. Everything that she’s tried to do for me. I…I can’t do that. I won’t do that!

The thought was enough for Nymoria, and she charged forward with her blade, preparing to drive it into the form of the demon, in the hopes of putting it down for good. She wanted everything to be over, to return to normal. Or to become normal. But she knew now, that it wouldn’t happen. Not here, not now. She couldn’t escape who, and what she was. She had to face it, to accept it.

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Combat

Nymoria | Lv. 32 | P. 0 | HP [655/655] | EN [88/97] | ACC [5] | DMG [19] | EVA [4] | BH [+35] | Bleed [36] | Keen [+2 BD] | LD [+1] | +3 EN | -1 EN
Fourth Inner Demon | HP: 181/491| DMG: 285 | MIT: 14 | Stun Immunity [1/3] Bleed [36 | 2/2]

ID234512 | BD: 1+5=6 | <<ST-I vs. Fourth Inner Demon>> | Miss Bleed [36 | 1/2] | MOB: 3-5=-2 | Miss.

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Nymoria shifted at the last second, the blade missing her sister’s form as she realised that she couldn’t strike the mirage down. She knew that she needed to, that it was simply an image of her sister based upon her own mind, created by Cardinal in order to test her. Yet Nymoria found herself stopping the strike, turning it away and stepping back. Shaking, she lowered the blade slightly.

Of course you couldn’t do it. What would someone like you ever accomplish in life? You need someone to hold the sword, the shield, even your hand. You couldn’t strike me down! Not even if you- The words were cut off as Nymoria’s sword pierced through the centre of its throat, brought up and thrust forward suddenly as the world swayed before her. Time seemed to pause as Nymoria realised what she had done, her hand jerking back and pulling the blade with it through mere reaction, rather than any sort of desire. The figure shifted on the spot, the grin changing into something more menacing, as it swayed on its feet.

You…think this is victory? That you’ll…be free? You’ll never…be free…you’ll always be…reminded. Reminded of how much of a burden…how much of a problem…you are…everyone hates you…everyone despises you…everyone knows that…they must…pity… The words stopped suddenly as the thing disappeared into a collection of black and red shards, scattering on the wind and leaving Nymoria alone with her thoughts. She already knew the final word that it had been meaning to speak, a similar word echoing in her mind. …me.

She closed her eyes, hoping that it would all disappear. Wanting to forget it all, to have it be nothing more than a simple piece of her mind’s creation. A dream that would never bother her again. But there’s truth in dreams. In the imagination’s creation. A hidden meaning, perhaps…but a truth nonetheless. I’ve…always known. Always. I had to face it. To accept it…to… Nymoria felt the tears come suddenly. Running down the sides of her face as she leaned forward into herself, pulling herself tighter together in the hopes of making it all stop. She knew there was no escape now, not even in death. She was a plague upon the very world she tried to fit in with, and nothing she ever did would change that.

----

The rushing water pouring over her snapped her into consciousness once more, and Nymoria found herself sitting beneath the waterfall once more. Drenched to the core, she rolled slowly to her feet, feeling the dead weight of her body as she tried to figure out what had happened. She remembered it all – fighting the mirages of herself, the words that they had spoken, all of it looping in her head like a bad movie. She felt the pain in her chest, the pain that she knew she would carry until her dying breath.

I…survived. Should- She shook her head. She didn’t deserve to, and so she wouldn’t consider it. Her purpose now, was clear. She would continue forwards, pushing for freedom, so that she didn’t cause any more harm to others than she would need to, in order to ensure their own success. She would fade into the background, becoming nothing more than the quiet help, the figure that appeared for a singular purpose, only to disappear again. She would ensure that she never strayed too close to someone’s consciousness, lest they accidentally take pity upon her. Lest they accidentally take an interest in her. I will ensure that no one has to suffer because of me. Because of my existence, and my…I will become a shadow, like I’m meant to be. Unheard. Unspoken. Unseen. That’s…that’s all I can do…

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Combat

Nymoria | Lv. 32 | P. 0 | HP [655/655] | EN [81/97] | ACC [5] | DMG [19] | EVA [4] | BH [+35] | Bleed [36] | Keen [+2 BD] | LD [+1] | +3 EN | -10 EN
Fourth Inner Demon | HP: 0/491| DMG: 285 | MIT: 14 | Stun Immunity [2/3]

ID234513 | BD: 5+5=10 | <<ST-I vs. Fourth Inner Demon>> | Hit: [19x12-14] = 214 damage | Defeated.

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Thread Summary

Word Count: 10,124
EXP: 10,124/10x3x1 = 3,036 [Thread Progression] + 2,000 [Quest] = 5,036 EXP
Col: 400 [Thread Progression]
Unlock <<Meditation>> Extra Skill

Edited by Nymoria
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