[By the time Aetós's spell grips him, pulls him through space and time to emerge anew at the withered, dead-or-dying husk of the Tree of Life, Liem has been run ragged — worn out physically from the strain of rescuing ailing Springstar residents and mentally from the toll that their deaths have taken on his morale. The man who ventures from the desiccated tree to wander the silent, abandoned streets of the two cities looks wrung out and used up.

However, he has no time to rest, and no place to safely do so regardless. Instead, he delves into the urban sprawl, searching.]

a. [His first priority is Heliopolis — primarily because it is where he would expect to find survivors if there were any, or at least signs they might have left behind. It was Springstar's beating heart, and therefore the most obvious place to seek not just information, but also usable supplies, if any yet remain in the city. The store rooms he checks are mostly empty save of rot and rust, but he is reluctant to head back outside, into the pitiless gaze of that dying sun.

You might find him moving through the abandoned halls and courtyards like a ghost, casting paranoid glances over his shoulder, flinching in the light that floods through the windows. Perhaps there is yet something of interest in the municipal buildings — but failing that, there is still the Church.]

b. [Eventually, he is forced back out into the city proper, armed only with a rust-pitted knife and a look of haunted determination. Navigating the streets remains an exercise in misery; the sun scorches him evilly, leaving him weak and dizzy after only a few minutes exposure, and so he takes to the shadows — only to be chased from them by a wire-taut foreboding so intense it sends sweat pouring down his spine. Under the circumstances, it's no surprise he resorts to breaking into empty buildings for relief.

He wanders for as long as he can, and you may come across him thus: scouring abandoned buildings for supplies, or pale-faced, braving the sun and shadows in between. Once he's endured all he can bear, you may even meet him on his way home, laden with what meagre supplies he's scavenged, seeking the safety of his own house to ease his exhaustion. Perhaps, if you are a friendly face, he will even invite you in.]

[It begins slowly: the waning of his magic, the strangeness in his blood. When Liem leaves the unbearable heat of the cities behind and delves beneath the Tree to seek the Oracle, he feels weary and heartsore, but his determination to see their task through to the end remains stubbornly intact. This time, he can't help but feel, the choice is succeed or die.

But the caverns below hold nothing for the shard-bearers except imprisonment, and two motionless figures — one of wood and one simply frozen in time. Liem has prowled the entire perimeter of the space, disappeared down each tunnel and looked into each alcove. He has stared into the hollow eyes of the effigy and wondered what he is meant to do. It avails him nothing; there is no test here, yet. He is left alone with his thirst, and his fatigue, and most of all, his doubts.

That is when the struggle truly begins.]

a. [In the first stretch of time, before the effigy makes its demands, Liem seeks out other shard-bearers for the respite of distraction their thoughts offer. He does not wish to be left alone with the visions and questions and despairs that the slow boil of Zenith inside him brings on. It is easier to shove those thoughts aside when he can instead turn his attention outward — and so he looks for those whose thoughts are loudest, or whose distraction seems most apparent, and he approaches with every appearance of normalcy, to gesture with a restrained little movement at the space next to them.]

Might I join you?

b. [Liem's composure can only withstand the strain of his growing distress for so long before it begins to crack — and then to crumble. When he cannot bear it anymore and still maintain a facade of calm, he retreats to what meagre, root-formed privacy he can find while the tide of his corruption-fed doubts tries to drown him. There is a hot, manic look in his eyes as he stares down at his trembling hands, shedding waves of wild despair tangled up with the frantic need to put it somewhere. At some point, the knife he scavenged in Springstar has ended up clutched in his fingers. He hasn't yet seemed to realize that he might have an audience.]

[If we plotted something and none of the above prompts seem quite right, feel free to just take them as inspiration and wildcard me something! Liem's corruption struggles will wax and wane throughout the ritual, though he'll generally trend worse over time. As always, you can hit me up on Discord or on Plurk at Sporelett to work out specific details.]