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Astra hadn't been the same since she woke up a week ago. She remembered what had happened quite vividly – a spirit cat had taken her and tried to dig into her special powers and then she had ended up being let go. She had reported the incident to her alitheian contacts at the academy and was none the wiser that Khepri was watching her very often to dig into exactly what was special about her.
The pretty young human had been moody, grumpy, and without any hope at all. She'd spent all her time in a dorm room without hardly eating anything at all. The worst part was, she didn't think she had a problem. First she thought she was just stressed about the encounter she'd had, then she'd thought she just needed to feed, but even after doing that she still felt just as bad.
'I'm just sad' came to mind, but her friends had noticed that she was getting progressively worse. Astra hadn't put on any performances or even changed her appearance for the entire week so they knew that something must be wrong. And so, they drug her to Serapis's office and pushed her inside.
"Hey! Let me out!" she said, turning to the door that was closed behind her. She pushed on it but it didn't budge. Fuming, she turned around to look at the office. Then, if Serapis or one of his assistants(?) were there she would say, "my friends think I have depression and wanted me to get help. Some friends they are."
Fathom was a novelty, even at Bastion; only a handful of faculty and a few students had Imber's mysterious Pact, Serapis being one of them. Ever since he'd acquired it, he was all too eager to use it to explore the minds of others, nurturing his interest in psychology. Starting during his time as a student, he became known as somebody one could go to if they really needed assistance with some sort of mental malady, even though, at first, many problems were outside of his ability to help with. His reputation of wanting to help others in this way stuck as he transitioned from student to professor, and now both students and peers are wont to seek him out for assistance due to his mastery thereof.
As such, he was not unused to the sort of interruption that befell him today. The door to his office was abruptly thrown open followed by a young woman being forced through the threshold; an interaction Serapis watched from his desk on the other side of the room. The office itself had walls painted an abyssal blue like a clear night's sky. Intricate, polished shelving limned both of the side walls, though they varied in style– every piece of furniture that lay within was an artifact or antique of some kind, with most having been found by Serapis himself and restored by local artisans if necessary. His desk sat off-set from the far wall, facing the door. Upon those shelves were a mix of books and a myriad of arcane curiosities he'd collected over the years alongside a few choice plants, both local and exotic.
The professor was a silent ebon statue with a curtain of dark, silken hair falling over his shoulders, somewhat obscuring his features. He was well dressed in silk and velvet, his shirt a light cream embroidered with gold and vest faded ochre. Outwardly, he lacked much of a reaction as the commotion at his door happened, only his eyes shifting to look up from the mess of papers he had been previously poring over. A patient figure, he'd wait for her to turn and address him before speaking.
"Your friends think you do?" He'd ask, though somewhat rhetorical. "Please, sit," he'd continue, lifting an arm from the stone surface of his desk to gesture to the empty chair that sat in front of it.
The chair was a fancy thing; though carved of stone, it mimicked the sort of natural designs Æld'Norai tended to weave with their Draoidh– this was a style found often in the Mirage Kingdoms, but it fell out of fashion along with their fall. For comfort, he'd placed a silk pillow that matched the color of the walls. Were Astra able to remember this from a bygone history lecture, she might be able to recognize it for what it was: a true artefact from thousands of years past.
Should she sit down, he would continue: "Describe both how you actually feel and then tell me what symptoms your peers claim to have noticed," Serapis spoke with a smooth cadence, voice lacking in emotion yet soothing all the same.
Astra was in no mood to appreciate the unique aesthetics of the room. Wow, fancy designs, big whoop. She grumbled under her breath as she walked past the various artifacts that would have normally caught her attention. Her looks hadn't changed since she'd entered mageburn – she still appeared to be as extra as she normally did, but beneath the illusion she was a disheveled mess.
"They think something is wrong with me because I haven't wanted to do anything ever since I got pulled into a meeting with a Rakshasa a week or so ago. I told them it was no big deal, but they kept trying to psychoanalyze me no matter what I said." She would have liked to have associated the cat with a name, but they never made it to introductions.
She crossed her arms and pouted much like a kid might. "I feel sad, upset, a little empty inside every time I think about that day… but I'm fine!" She averted her eyes like a liar might and tried to focus on something else. Yes, that was a nice desk let's look at that.
It certainly didn't help that she relived the horrifying experience of being possessed over and over in her head. Although, now that she thought about it, a Deep One might be able to simply get rid of the memories that were bothering her. A fathom user couldn't even read those memories, not without eating her brain, so it seemed like a fairly safe way of alleviating her mental issues.
Had she not mentioned a Rakshasa (or other magical meddler), he might've assumed that her issue was a more standard chemical imbalance. However, that fact in combination with the knowledge that she had Crest indicated that she'd very likely been forced into Mageburn or otherwise meddled with. His Divination didn't indicate any anomalies with her Metaphor beyond what fit the profile of that hypothesis. Given that, he established a Link between her and himself. Sure, he could cast spells without a Link by touch, but he wasn't about to put hands on a student without due cause. The Link itself further reinforced his hypothesis– the mental distress she was under was similar to many who were in denial about a trauma they went through.
Using Empath, she'd immediately feel a wash of calm that'd quell her anxieties and make Serapis' presence inherently comforting and more trustworthy– this was meant to prevent her from getting defensive towards any questions he intended to ask, as well as serving the dual purpose of temporarily alleviating some of her distress. That is, should she choose not to reject it with Rusalka's Unyielding Will.
"You have good friends; they're right. Whatever happened between you and that Rakshasa has caused you a lot of duress," he'd remark, maintaining a gentle tone of voice.
"Did you use any Arcana of your own during the encounter?" He'd ask, seeking to confirm his diagnosis. "I'll be able to help you, but if your mind has been affected by Mageburn then I need to account for that, too."
Astra shifted from side to side in her seat then fidgeted with her hair while trying to distract herself from thinking about that day. She felt her mood immediately start getting worse as she recalled the horrific details. It was hard to talk to people about because of the sensitive nature of the cat's questioning. People thought she was crazy for feeling so down just because she'd been asked a few questions. If only they knew…
"I did use arcana. I wanted to get out of that situation so badly that I used Crest to wish for freedom. Everything after that was a blur but I wouldn't be surprised if I entered mageburn. I passed out at some point and the next thing I knew I was free and the Rakshasa was gone."
Her eyes grew watery and then she said, "can you fix me? Can't you just… make me forget about that whole day!?" She sniffled and wiped her nose on a handkerchief. She didn't know why she hadn't considered this option before. Maybe it was because nobody ever really wanted someone poking around in their head, or maybe because there weren't that many fathom users around here to begin with. But a professor that seemed to not be overtly evil couldn't be that bad, could he?
Astra had never been told not to seek the services of a Deep One so even though she thought it was a bad idea she was willing to try anything to feel better.
