Chapter Text
Castorice’s earliest memory is of trudging through the snow. Where she came from, how she got there, and why she was there, she hadn’t the slightest clue. Her mind was as hazy as the fog that surrounded her. Were it not for a handful of priests that stumbled upon her praying beneath a gravestone, Castorice would have froze to death without so much as knowing where she was. They took her into their city, hailed her as their Holy Maiden, and taught her the traditions of Aidonia.
Throughout that process, she managed to scrounge the empty shelves of her mind for scraps of knowledge about herself. Such as the name Castorice, for a start. She knew it to be her’s the way man can recognize his own reflection. It rolled smoothly off her tongue the first time she spoke it aloud as though she had done so thousands of times before.
The second thing Castorice knew was her curse. She did not need to touch someone for the first time to recognize it for what it was. Something inside of her was keenly aware of it. Knew on an instinctual level that her touch would cause others to grow flowers from the bowels of their gut. That their roots would then drag that person into the River of Souls.
The third and strangest tidbit of knowledge Castorice could recall is that she once had wings and a tail. Can feel how their weight is missing from her back. There is a hollow within her chest that doesn’t belong. A hole where something has been ripped out. Missing pieces to the puzzle that makes up Castorice. Somehow, by some means beyond her understanding, she knows that whatever was stolen from her is in the hands of Thanatos.
Though her scales have been peeled off, the instincts tied to those parts of her still linger. Castorice prefers sleeping in a nest made of blankets rather than a bed. When she’s annoyed, she can feel the phantom sensation of a tail angrily whacking the ground. If an animal crosses her path and growls at her, she is compelled to growl back. When she sees gold-
The first time it happened was when her room was being cleaned. Castorice always stood beside the door while they did. Trying her best to stay out of their way and ignoring the guard who openly stared at her the whole time. One of the ladies was wearing a necklace that glittered when the light hit it at the right angle.
Her feet were moving before Castorice was aware of what she was doing. The prickle against her back from the guard’s glare wasn’t enough to pull her from her daze. It was only when the lady gasped and dropped her broom that she realized.
“Oh, dear Maiden, do you need something?” That girl whose hands trembled could barely be considered an adult. One who is far too young to attempt the arduous journey to the realm beyond Thanatos’s gate.
“Your necklace…” Castorice lamely said. She had debated with herself whether or not to step back or stay rooted in place. It wasn’t her intention to make the girl uncomfortable, but all become locked in place when being stared down by Death.
“You like it?” That girl brought a trembling hand to her neck, gliding her fingers across the simple golden chain adorned with a blue gemstone. “My boyfriend gave it to me, so I couldn’t resist wearing it today.”
“It’s pretty.” It truly was. There was elegance to simplicity and the metal it was made from glittered in a way that made Castorice want to reach out. “Can I hold it?” The second the question left her lips, she had stumbled back. “You don’t have to if you don’t-”
“Our Daughter of Styx is still a girl at heart.” The maid had laughed as she reached around to unhook the necklace. She set it down on a nearby table before retrieving the broom she had dropped.
Castorice carefully skirted around her. When she took the necklace, she cradled it as if it would break if she was not careful. It hardly weighed a thing within her palms. The centerpiece is clearly the gemstone yet her attention was drawn to the chain itself. She did not know why, but it felt nice to rub her thumb against it. She wanted to lay her head against the necklace, nuzzle it with her cheek.
Castorice set the necklace back down and scurried back to her original position. She stared at the wall beside her, refusing to glance over at the necklace. Focusing instead on the pinprick of the guard’s glare. Eventually they finished cleaning her room, the door was bolted shut behind them, and she was left in solitude.
It's customary to bury the dead with valuables. Necklaces, rings, bracelets, coins, and so on. By placing these things on the corpses they will have them during their journey through the River of Souls. Then if they happen to cross paths with one of Thanatos’s Titankin along the way, they can offer those riches to them. The Titankin will then ferry that soul on their back the rest of the way, or even allow them to speak to the living one last time if that soul would prefer.
It is said that Thanatos harbors a particular fondness for gold. So much that it is sometimes used in rituals to curry their favor. The most pristine animal skulls are embedded with golden teeth to draw their attention. Though their nature remains ever fickle regardless. Some believe if it doesn’t work then that is because Thanatos is unsatisfied with the quality of those offerings. That is nothing more than speculation, yet Thanatos's fondness for gold is an undeniable fact.
Thanks to this, it is often referred to as the metal of the dead in Aidonia’s texts. Each time Castorice presided over a ritual or a burial, she found herself wondering if that is why she felt compelled to claim those offers for herself. She didn’t, doing so would be disrespectful to the dead. But there were moments where she dragged the pads of her fingers across those glittering metals, earning an odd look from the priests.
She hasn’t been able to find a concrete answer even long after Aidonia was swallowed by the snow. Becoming a necropolis that will forever live on in Castorice’s memories. Nowadays she wanders from city to city. Following Nikador's handiwork in order to help the dead find rest.
There are too many corpses for her to try and bury them. The best Castorice can do is rearrange them so that they may lie together. Sew back on any severed limbs that had been thrown aside. For the ones that have been mutilated beyond recognition, she offers a prayer.
Castorice isn’t at all worried whenever she lays down to rest. No animal would dare to get close to her, and any Titankin that have a strong enough willpower to resist her deathly aura will be at the front of the pack. The only thing left in these necropolis that can threaten her are the buildings that were damaged by the fighting. So Castorice can sleep on practically any surface she wants without fear.
When she awakens it's because of the clatter of something being knocked over. The clang of it echoed loudly within the temple Castorice had taken refuge in. She lazily lifts her head from the altar. Her elongated ears twitch when they pick up a high pitched whine.
“Ow… That really hurt.” A small girl with vibrant red hair is pushing herself back onto her feet. Her bangs cover one eye and her white dress which has been stained with dirt faintly glimmers with hints of gold.
Castorice blinks and rubs her eyes. When she opens them again, that shimmer is gone. Had she imagined that? A lingering dredge of a dream she could not remember? Whatever the case, this is not a place that a kid should be. With the state the corpses of this city are in, it wasn’t left to ruin recently either. She looks far too healthy, clothes too nice, to have been wandering like the Holy Maiden has been.
“Um…” Castorice also belatedly realizes that she’s never directly interacted with children. Some have partaken in the ceremonies she’s presided over but that’s it. “Are you alright?”
“Perfectly fine! Just wasn’t expecting you to give off such a scary feeling.” The girl dusts off her dress. Her knee has been scrapped red and raw. “Say, you’re Aidonia’s Holy Maiden, right?”
Any and all thoughts flitting through Castorice’s head come to a screeching halt. Forgotten as new ones fill in the gaps they leave behind. Variations of what, hows, and why that further fray her already confused mind.
This time when she looks at this child, it’s not through the eyes of an ordinary human. Within each life is a soul: The seedbeds from which Castorice’s flowers grow. This girl’s soul burns impossibly bright. Flush full of vitality and harboring a force to it that makes Castorice think of the eye of a storm. A safe haven in an otherwise turbulent land. There are also flecks of gold that cling to her yet they don’t seem to belong to the girl. Rather, it seems more like crumbs of another’s power that have stuck to her.
“Who are you?” Castorice is such a fool that even Zagreus would take pity on her. Of course this is no ordinary child. She would be dead if she were.
“Trianne, Holy Maiden of Janusopolis!” The girl straightens her back and raises her chin, standing proudly as she introduces herself. “We’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time because we believe you’re one of the heroes foretold in the prophecy.”
“What prophecy?” As Castorice asks, she can’t help but note the scratchiness to her own voice. How long has it been since she last spoke to a living person? Far too long.
“Huh? Even if Aidonia was isolated they still should’ve heard…” Trianne mumbles to herself. She stares down her fellow Holy Maiden, deep in thought. “By any chance, did your handlers keep you isolated and locked away too?”
She may as well have punched Castorice in the gut with how those words take the breath out of her. She’d always been told that she needed to keep her distance from others because of her curse. That it was for everyone’s safety. That if the wrong people were to learn what she can do then they would hunt her down. Their words made sense so she never doubted them. It’s why even now she’s isolated herself from the living. Had she been lied to this whole time?
“A lot has been happening all across Amphoerous. We’ll explain everything to you.” Trianne offers a hand to her. A show of solace that she cannot reciprocate. “For now, why don’t you come back with us to Okhema? It's still standing strong and is way better than hanging out in these ruins.”
“Would someone like me even be welcome there?” Yet doubts cling tight to Castorice. How does she know that this girl isn’t the one who is lying? There are plenty of stories like that, of evil wearing a mask of innocence to deceive the purehearted.
“Don’t worry, if anyone has a problem with you then Agy and I will take care of it.” Trianne puffs out her chest. Standing on the tips of her toes to make herself look taller. “Trianne swears upon Janus to protect you!”
Castorice doesn’t have any reason to trust her, but she has even less reasons to refuse. There is nothing to be gleaned from these necropolis that she hasn’t already put together. As much as she’d also like to fulfill her duty to help the restless spirits move on, there’s too many of them. Thanatos should have flooded the lands to bring them into the River of Souls centuries ago. The fact that they haven’t shows that all her failed attempts to reach out to them wasn’t due to a failure on her part.
There is something wrong with the Titan who reigns over Death, something that is preventing them from fulfilling their duty. While Castorice is running out of options. The few she has left are of the “no turning back” variety, so she’d rather not try them. If there is anyone who can aid her in this predicament then it would be another Holy Maiden. Either directly or by acting as a middleman between Castorice and a different Titan. So she doesn’t truly have any choice but to accept the offer being presented to her.
The journey to reach Okhema is long. That proves to be more of a blessing than a burden. It gives Trianne plenty of time to explain the prophecy to Castorice and all the steps that have been taken so far to fulfill it. There is an otherworldly force infesting this world and not even the Gods are immune to its corruption. To combat this, twelve heroes must rise up and take on the mantle of the Titans. They will take the Titan’s Coreflames into their bodies, ascend to godhood, and succeed where the old Gods had failed.
…Is the heavily summarized gist of it. Trianne explains that so far Castorice is the only person she and her allies know of that could be compatible with the Coreflame of Death. Being told that almost makes her want to laugh. It’s the one thing that confuses her the most about what little understanding she has of her own existence: Why? Why had Thanatos cursed her so? What reason did they have to steal a part of her and leave her hollow? This prophecy could very well be the answer.
It’s also not the only thing the two girls talk about. Neither had crossed paths with another Holy Maiden before. They speak of their duties, of the methods they would use to perform rituals. Laying all of it down to see where there is overlap and where there isn’t.
(Neither Castorice nor Trianne bring up the locks that were on their doors. The shackles that would bind their feet. How suffocating the place that was supposed to be their home was. How violating it felt to be watched during every waking moment. They do not need to. Both can feel it whenever the other stumbles on their words and switches topics. Sense that shared unease when those memories reach too close to the surface.)
“Lady Trianne, there is one thing I’ve been trying to figure out that confuses me.” Castorice begins once they can spot Okhema’s walls in the distance. She feels if she doesn’t say this now then she never will.
“Ask away! We’ll do our best to answer.” Trianne turns to walk backwards so that she can face her fellow Holy Maiden.
“Your clothes, I can faintly smell the whiff of another’s power on them.” During their travels Castorice has discerned that golden shimmer she can spot must be some type of enchantment.
“Oh, that must be Agy you’re smelling.” Trianne snickers at the other’s choice of words, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “She made this dress for us. I’m sure if you asked, she’d be more than happy to make one for you too.”
If this Agy decides to add the same enchantment to them then Castorice will have to decline. She, with a great deal of embarrassment, doubts she’d be able to resist the temptation to smother her face into them. It's easy to deny that part of her base instincts when the gold belongs to someone else. Castorice doesn’t want to break this streak if she can help it. Because once she gives in for the first time, it will be so much easier to surrender to that impulse.
Not that she’d dare confess any of that aloud, so Castorice simply nods in response. Which is enough to satisfy Trianne. The two speak no further as they make their way to the front gate, with the much smaller leading the charge. The guards happily welcome Trianne back into the city. When they see Castorice, they’re initially friendly. Yet the second she starts to pass them, they immediately become on guard.
Castorice quickly walks past them to catch up with the small Holy Maiden. Keeping her head bowed low and her hands wound together against her front. They don’t stop her but she can feel their eyes tracking her every move. It’s familiar. There’s a different kind of intensity to their gaze than what she’s grown accustomed to. She will grow used to this one as well in due time.
“Come on, Cas! Agy is waiting for us.” Trianne had ended up fairly far ahead in her excitement. Opting to use her wings rather than her legs in her excitement. “Then once we’re done talking with her I’ll show you around.”
“Lady Trianne, can we…” Castorice stumbles on her words, biting her tongue and swallowing the lump that's forming in her throat. “It would be wise for us to avoid any crowded streets if we can.”
“You alright?” Maybe it's her tone, or maybe it's her expression that makes Trianne return to the earth. She backtracks to stand just outside the range of Castorice’s ominous aura. “You look pale. Well, paler than before.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been around other people.” There aren’t many on this long, sloped road that leads to the city proper. Only guards stationed at various points and a caravan passing through. Yet that alone is enough to make Castorice uneasy.
“Right, got it.” Trianne nods. The motion rustles her bangs, making her eye that had been covered by them slip out. Joining its twin in gazing up at the stiff Holy Maiden. “We know a way we can take that should be empty around this time.”
She takes Castorice through what she describes as “the scenic route” which involves a lot of walking over roofs. From those heightened positions, she can get a general idea of Okhema’s layout. Trianne also points out the main facilities for her. The soldiers' garrisons, the main market, and so on.
It’s bright. Kephale’s slumbering form provides light for Okhema, meaning that darkness never encroaches upon this fair city. A complete contrast to the rest of Amphoreus now that Aquila’s eyes remain eternally shut. Though even when the Sky Titan still blessed the world with cycles of day and night, Aidonia didn’t see much of it. Constantly besieged by snowstorms and fog as it was, darkness is Castorice’s home. So the light this city is bathed in is overwhelming. She has to squint to avoid being blinded by it.
The shimmering that flickers across her vision must be because of how unaccustomed she is to Kephale’s light. A trick of the eyes creating the illusion of a city dusted with gold. That’s all it is. Yet that part of her fighting to be let loose tries to claim otherwise. Castorice stomps on that tiny voice, banishing it into the deepest depths of her heart.
The centerpiece of Okhema is easily the Marmoreal Palace. It's far grander than anything that was in Aidonia. The inside of it is somehow far more impressive than its exterior with its waterfall curtains. Trianne leads her through the side corridors that eventually opens up into a garden. It's occupied by small, four-legged creatures of various colors and- Oh.
Castorice feels the breath leave her body. Every part of her grows still and in that brief moment she feels as if she’s turned into a corpse. The only reason she knows she didn’t drop dead is because of how loudly her heart has begun hammering against her ribs.
Beside the cusp of the horizon stands a woman who’s gazing out at the land below. Tall and possessing a figure that would make any man stop in their tracks to stare. Cloaked in a dress that perfectly accentuates each curve. Her hair is a vibrant shade of blonde that appears as if it were woven from gold.
“Agy, we’re here!” Trianne fearlessly bounds up to her, completely oblivious to how her fellow Holy Maiden has become frozen in place.
The golden woman turns and Castorice’s mouth goes dry. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the low cut of her dress. Specifically to the swirling mark on her sternum and how it stretches down the hill of her breast. It shimmers with a slightly metallic hue against her lightly tanned skin. That mark glitters as Kephale’s light shines down on her and Castorice wants nothing more than to nuzzle her face against it.
“Welcome back Teacher.” Her voice is fine silk, caressing the ear with its gentle touch. The type of voice that could soothe the wariest of souls. A gentle lull that naturally pulls the listener in. “How was your journey this time?”
Castorice’s fingers dig painfully into her palms. Had she a tail still then it would be wagging. She can’t tell if her throat is actually rumbling with a pleased purr or if that is another phantom sensation tied to her missing half. If it’s the former then thank any Titan willing to listen that it's not actually audible.
“Pretty calm. Saw a few groups of Titankin from afar that were mindlessly wandering and that’s about it.” Trianne’s words manage to briefly pull her attention away from this golden beauty. Only very briefly.
“You must be exhausted after traveling so far.” Agy places a hand against her chest. Right over the mark against her breast that Castorice is trying so hard not to stare at. “Why don’t you head to the baths while I take care of our guest?”
Hearing that, Castorice becomes extremely self-conscious of her current condition. She had tried her best to maintain her hygiene while wandering. Scavenging the ruins for soaps and toiletries and so on. However there’s only so much one can do when traveling between cities that have been left in such ruin that it’s a flip of a coin if their plumbing still works.
“No can do. We promised Cas we’d help her get settled.” She barely hears Trianne’s response, more concerned with figuring out her own bearing.
Looking down at herself, Castorice notes that her clothes have taken the worst of it. Frayed and torn in several places. Held together by messy stitching patched by inexperienced hands. The fabric colored by stains that she couldn’t completely scrub away. Simply put, she’s a complete and utter mess right now. Hardly worthy to stand in the streets, much less before such a graceful woman.
“Cas! Don’t be shy and come say hi to Agy.” Her heart leaps into her throat when Trianne calls out to her. “We promise she’s really nice.”
A feeling that’s made worse once Castorice realizes that Agy is looking at her. There’s a serene smile upon her lips, gentle and disarming. Nothing at all in her expression or body language gives way any sort of disgust. Somehow rather than calm Castorice, it makes her even more nervous.
She bows her head and rubs her hands together, feeling the dirt and dried blood that’s painting her fingertips. There’s so much filth stuck under her nails that they look black. Castorice swallows, a thick lumb clogging her throat. It grows tighter as she crosses the garden.
She stops exactly five paces away from Trianne and Agy. It is the closest people can get to her without their fight-or-flight instincts rousing. Different people are affected by the deathly aura she naturally exudes to different degrees. Those who are more weak-willed become stricken by an immense fear. They’ll flee if they can and lash out if they feel cornered. While those of stronger dispositions will tense up, growing anxious and paranoid at worse. There is no way to know for certain who is which until they are subjected to it. That and Castorice would prefer to not frighten this beautiful lady if she can help it.
Raising her head, Castorice forces herself to meet Agy’s eyes and her eyes only. Now that she’s closer, she can see that they’re clouded over. With her irises so smudged that her pupils are barely visible through that haze. Unfocused in a way Castorice has often seen in the elderly whose sight had faded with their age.
Seeing that helps subdue a little bit of Castorice’s self-consciousness. Even if this beautiful woman cannot see how grimy she is, the principle of greeting her for the first time in such a state still holds much weight. A proper lady shouldn’t be stained by dirt or the musk of death. Aquilla above, she must smell awful right now. Hopefully this distance is also enough to spare Agy’s nose.
“Welcome to Okhema. I am Aglaea, dressmaker and representative of the Chrysos Heirs.” Ah, so that’s her actual name. The Holy Maiden had thought Agy sounded more like a nickname but couldn’t be sure.
“Castorice of Aidonia.” Castorice somehow manages to keep her voice even. She pinches the edges of her robes and bows the way she was taught to when standing before royalty. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“In truth it is long overdue.” A soft sigh, a subtle hint of annoyance, escapes Aglaea. “With how far Aidonia is from here, knowledge of it does not reach us easily. We only learned of your existance from your feats on the battlefield. Then when Teacher started planning to reach out to you, we heard of its fall to a Kremnoan detachment. We feared you had perished along with the rest of the city.”
“Then how did you know to find me?” The passing of time has become a blur to Castorice, so she can’t say how long she’s been wandering. However with how many times she’s slept it must have been months at the very least.
“That was thanks to a caravan you helped out.” Trianne is the one who answers. “They told Agy about the weird scythe wielding girl who’d saved them from the Black Tide, so we decided to check it out.”
Right, Castorice does recall doing that. She saw those creatures of the Black Tide closing in on them. Those things fill her with a great sense of unease. Each time she has spotted them she has felt compelled to destroy them. Her baser instincts scream at her that they are unnatural and that they do not belong in this world.
“Here I was worried about Teacher when you must be even more exhausted.” Aglaea clicks her tongue, that displeasure directed at herself. “Marmoreal Palace hosts a public bath that you can take advantage of while I arrange accommodations for you.”
“That is- I appreciate the offer but it would be safer if I were to have a private space.” Even if the priests had lied to Castorice about how others would view her, the curse she carries is undeniably real. It takes prolonged contact for it to apply, so thankfully an accidental brush alone won’t kill someone. However it's still better to not place that risk onto others at all if she can help it.
Her wording makes Aglaea purse her lips. Her cloudy eyes bore into Castorice. That unseeing gaze peels her apart layer by layer. She has to fight to keep from squirming beneath it.
“In that case, you may stay in my abode until we can figure out something more permanent.” Then Aglaea’s expression returns to that serene, welcoming look. Witnessing that shift makes the Holy Maiden wonder if she simply walked into another cage by coming here.
“I couldn’t possibly impose.” Castorice takes a step back and averts her gaze. One half of her is frightened by the prospect. It doesn’t want her time in Okhema to play out exactly as it had in Aidonia. The other half is ecstatic over this opportunity to stick close to this woman who shines like gold.
“You wouldn’t be. It’s my family’s estate that once housed dozens at a time, but now I am all that remains.” Aglaea reassures her. Misunderstanding what is making her hesitant to accept. “There is more than enough space to fit one more occupant.”
“We live there too. So it’d make it easier for us to make sure you're settling in just fine.” Trianne tacks on. Perhaps she is worrying for nothing with how carefree her fellow Maiden has been.
“Then I suppose I have no reason to refuse.” Castorice also muses that her fate was sealed the moment she agreed to come here. She bows her head and resigns herself to her fate. “Thank you.”
Both Aglaea and Trianne beam at her acceptance, the latter more so than the former. They lead Castorice out from Marmoreal Palace to the place she will be staying for the foreseeable future. Trianne in particular excitedly rambles about all the fun things she wants to do with her fellow Holy Maiden. How there is much for her to see and learn and experience.
Try as she might to listen and respond, Castorice finds her attention persistently drifting to Aglaea. Occasionally glancing at her, observing how the inner layers of her hair are a brighter shade than the outerlayer, and forcing herself to face forward when those cloudy eyes glance at her in turn.
Castorice does not know how poor her sight is. It could be total blindness or it could be partial. The way Aglaea has been able to so accurately keep track of where she and Trianne are so far means the latter is more likely. She cannot see properly, so it’s likely accidental each time, yet whenever their eyes happen to meet Castorice feels her heart kick against her ribs.
“Cas, you alright? Your face is turning red.” Trianne pauses her tirade about the various games that are popular among the children of this city.
“It’s warmer than I’m used to.” Castorice rushes off her concern. It’s not a lie, it is warm here. The heat of Kephale’s light tingles against her skin.
Aglaea says nothing but her lips stretch into an amused smile. For some reason that makes the heat simmering within her cheeks burn hotter. Something tells Castorice that no matter what happens from here on out, she is completely and utterly screwed.