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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.
And so all was revealed to Serapis– or at least, everything that he needed to know to start helping Astra. Further minutiae of the scenario weren’t quite that necessary given that she wasn’t suffering an affliction imposed by the Rakshasa itself. No, it sounded like Crest’s Mageburn, though a more mild case of the Aeris Pact’s Dysphoria than some he’d encountered in the past– many of them had become so disturbed by the sight of themselves that they’d recreated their entire persona in a bid to disassociate from that which had caused them to cast beyond their limits. This, at least, was much less work to fix.
“I could do that, yes,” he’d begin.
The man would take a breath in thought. “I hesitate to take that memory from you in its entirety, lest you forget the visage of the Rakshasa who harmed you– it’d be best if you remember them so that ignorance won’t cause you to walk unknowingly into another of their games,” he’d offer by way of explanation. “The Mageburn also makes it slightly more complicated, but nothing that can’t be fixed.”
“Just relax and have some patience; you’ll feel better over the next few minutes,” would be the final thing he’d say before closing his eyes to focus.
Through the Tether, Serapis would begin to sift through the layers of her mind available to him without consuming it. On his end, he visualized the memories of others as a wide, singular mural painted by their emotions that he could pan through akin to a timeline; how exactly this looked varied per person, but it always appeared to him in this form. Knowing that she’d mentioned this happened roughly a week ago, he was able to quickly pan to that day and confirm that this was correct. The harsh colors of the incident in question starkly stood out compared to everything around it.
To smooth this over for her, he’d blend the brighter colors of exhilaration and joy from the performance she’d put on right before over the darker hues of her trauma, leaving only an echo of it in place. The Deep One opted not to compose any specific memory as he had no idea what would make sense to have occurred on that day, but Astra’s mind would do the work for him– she’d perceive that performance of simply having lasted longer, taking up much of the time she’d been kidnapped for. The only remnants of the incident that’d remain would be a sense of dread and danger should she look upon the face of the Rakshasa that’d harmed her; instinctually, she would not trust him.
As for Crest’s Dysphoria, that was a trickier beast, as it was a wound to the soul rather than an issue of memory. Still, the mind is intrinsically linked to the soul and mental modulations can affect the soul just as much as the soul can affect one’s mind. For this reason, Fathom’s Hallucinations could often ‘trick’ the soul into either getting over things of this nature or making them much worse, depending on which one was used. Sometimes, this took multiple attempts and sometimes it would never ‘stick’ so to speak, but it was certainly worth a shot in almost all cases like this.
That being the case, he would impart upon her Frolic; it ought to shift her perception of herself to a rosier one next time her gaze finds a mirror. There was a fancy-looking full-length mirror in the corner of the room behind Serapis’ desk; this was a mirror he used for Scrying while at work, but it functioned just like a normal one otherwise. With it, she’d be able to notice the results right away. This process took about five minutes total on Astra’s end and she would feel the results immediately as the spells were cast.
Astra pouted again when he didn't agree to taking her memory away. Serapis would probably be able to tell that she was used to getting her way. But his words did reach her and she was fairly desperate to feel better. Realizing that there was something wrong with her and that there might be hope for a cure had already made her feel just a teeny bit better already.
She closed her eyes and tried to relax and sure enough she did start to feel different. It wasn't that much different than when her father taught her how to use her rusalka powers. He'd forced various emotions into her and it'd always felt so natural. The point of those exercises had been to teach her how to recognize when she was being manipulated so she could activate Unyielding Will. She didn't do that this time, instead opting to let her emotions and memories change without resisting at all.
It was impossible for her not to think about her time spent with the Rakshasa but even as she did so her memory of the event shifted. The oddest part was that she couldn't tell that the memory was changing. She merely felt her mood changing as she kept thinking about the memory. She noticed that she went from angry and sad to mildly annoyed. When she thought about why she'd been angry, she only ended up confusing herself.
By the end of a few short minutes Astra already felt so much better and was… happy. Or content, sometimes those two states of mind were similar.
"I feel… Great!" she said, hopping to her feet. She did a little twirl and her crest modified laugh invited the sounds of chirping birds.
"That was truly magnificent, professor. I only feel a mild annoyance when I think about that day. I never knew the work of a Deep One could be so effective! I shall repay you somehow, when I feel up for casting magic again. Is there something I can make for you? Or some task that you would have me do?"
“Glad to hear it,” Serapis would begin with a small yet warm smile.
“But for clarity, one of the spells I've casted is temporary– it is responsible for the euphoria you feel, and the magic will wear off in approximately seven days. Your high spirits should allow your soul to adapt and heal from the trauma. However, if the Dysphoria of your Mageburn returns as it fades, please come back to see me and I will recast the spell. It does often require multiple rounds of it to override emotionally scarring Mageburn, though you might also get lucky.” This explanation was delivered somewhat clinically, but he wanted to make sure she understood what exactly he’d done to her for the sake of both her mental health and transparency.
“I don’t require any form of repayment, but if you insist, I wouldn’t mind Crest’s enchantments on some of my possessions; I’ll just have to think about which ones,” he’d say, gaze drifting somewhat as he thought about this.
Returning his eyes to Astra, “...or if you’ve any interest in archaeology I’ve always a need for assistants. Outside of that, however, you are free to go about your business.”
Sure, Bastion did pay for porters and the like for official excursions, but Serapis did like taking people along with actual interest in the activity outside of it simply being their job.
"Oh…" she said when she found out that the solution was somewhat temporary, but she was incapable of feeling very unhappy about it at the moment. She knew a fair bit about medicine so what the professor was telling her sounded plausible. There was still a tiny voice in her head saying that it might not work and that she might not be curable, but it was easy to ignore.
"Got it - I will come back regularly, as needed," she said with a nod.
She grinned when he mentioned that she could cast Crest for him. She wasn't very skilled when it came to crafts, but she was thankful enough to go out and learn how to make something if what he requested wasn't in her wheelhouse.
"Just say the word and I'll cast a way!" she started as she raised her finger. She nearly casted right then and there to make a point but she stopped herself at the last second. It probably wasn't a good idea to cast anything just yet.
"I actually have always wanted to go on one of those… what do you call them… expeditions? I hear you can uncover lots of neat things. If I were able to find an old instrument that isn't made anymore… or maybe even some lost music…" she got lost in thought about putting on a performance that nobody had heard in hundreds if not thousands of years. It was enough to make her ignore that dull ever-present desire to feed if only for a moment.
"It would be amaaaaazing!" Of course, this was a woman who hardly did any actual work in her life. Being in the Academy had forced her to get her hands dirty but probably nothing compared to what Serapis was involved with.
Serapis would nod to her. “It’s possible that in time you will no longer need assistance, but for now, yes.”
The man wasn’t necessarily expecting the level of enthusiasm Astra would show at the prospect of being an archaeological assistant, though he supposed at least part of that might be due to the Hallucination. One of its notable side effects was an enduring optimism even towards things the person didn’t necessarily care that much about on a normal basis. Which, usually, was harmless and sometimes even opened new doors for people to explore things they otherwise wouldn’t have thought twice about. What did make sense was that the prospect of time-lost culture on the subject of music would interest her.
“I could bend the ears of some of my colleagues to see if they’ve found trails on the subject,” the response given with a thoughtful expression. “...but no doubt such things exist out in the sands. I will let you know if I hear word of anything compelling.”
