Genesis Scrolls Round 1 : { Amaranthines : Scroll #1 }

Name/Pseudonym: {RavensAnonymous}
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Genesis Scrolls Round 1: {Amaranthines : Scroll #1}

{A Scroll from The Archives of Ämetatilelël

Scroll #739466

Letter found among the belongings of a late adventurer, Raven of Nakkum

[[ Mentions - Queen Violette of Vitriol, “Demon Shout” The Grave Wand held by Queen Violette of Vitriol, Amaranthines]]


I know not how long I have left, but the wand compels me to leave this for you, dear adventurer.

It is not uncommon for holders of this wand to have visions from the mind of the witch demon. You may have such broken visions of her memories yourself. The one before me kept meticulous notes of every vision they had, looking for clues to find some of her other possessions. They believed that holding all of them would let them connect to the witch’s spirit like never before.

I, on the other hand, concerned myself only with some of them.

The ones that portend great terrors for the Realm.
The ones that haunt me.
This one in particular.


The Wand leads me back to the ruins. It’s been a long day. I sink onto the ground where my Tower stood tall not a few nights ago.

They were right. In the end, I failed. I failed them. I failed myself. I failed my destiny.

How could I have let this happen? How did I not see it coming? What did I miss?

The familiar feeling of bitter vitriol washes over me.

No. I haven’t failed entirely. Not yet. I may not have seen them coming, but the fools only took down the Facade. They didn’t find anything important. They didn’t take anything True.

I dig my fingers into the rubble, into the ground and tune my heart and my mind to its strength and my true home within.



The floor dissolves momentarily into ether to let me in.


This place knows magic unlike any that we practise. How can it restore me so, as soon as I enter? How can it drive the world outside so far away, making everything else so unimportant? The dungeon. My home. My sanctum. All that’s interesting to me in the universe is now held between these walls. Comfort and adventure all at once.

Like you, Death.

The bitterness of the wand strikes a comfortable balance with the soothing smells of Death.

Peaceful, calming, welcoming but also brimming with mystery and potential. Not everyone sees you that way, do they? I feel bad for those who are scared of you. For those who don’t know or understand you as intimately as I do. Well, fuck them! I’m grateful for your company. For all the things we create together.

For Amaranthine.

The coldness of the Grave Wand seeps through me into Amaranthine, lifting her from her resting place and drawing her to the workbench.

I don’t need to make her for them anymore, do I? You took them all. Maybe I’ve been thinking about this all wrong. Maybe they did me a huge favour. How did I not see this before? The Tower is a small price to pay for this freedom. I can make her how I want now. I can take as long as I want making her. We can make her beautiful, Death. We can make her unique. We can make her interesting.

Her body contorts into strange shapes that I had never seen before. Strange, but also somehow familiar?

A lost, forgotten feeling finds me.

I can do anything I want. They don’t matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore. There are no rules anymore.

A violent surge of energy passes through me into her. She disintegrates into a thousand pieces and grafts herself back together onto a pair of demon wings.

Are you excited, Amaranthine? How shall I make you? I didn’t think of this when I named you, but did you know, in another world, amaranth is a shade of violet? Did you know they called me Violette? Violette. The woman I never wanted to be. The woman I don’t have to be anymore. But if I’m not her, then who am I? Could I have been you? Maybe. But who are you, Amaranthine? A child that has ceased to exist. The child I could have been if not for them?

I recognise the shapes her body is making.

I dreamed them up in that graveyard, the longest time ago. When I first found you, Death. Do you remember? When I ran away from them. When I was hiding from them. Why did I go back?

If it was just peace, just happiness, just goodness that you took from me…… You took more. I’ll never know what I could have become.

Amaranthine. A mystery.

Are you a monster too? You’d think I wouldn’t have become one if not for them, wouldn’t you? But no. I think I was always going to become some version of this. This. The “Other”.

A darkness enters her and spreads through her being.

I should make more of you, shouldn’t I, Amaranthine? From more children that have ceased to exist. For every trick, every game they played, the child that could have existed had they not. For every -

Her eyes.



That’s not possible. I’m imagining things, aren’t I?

But something flows from me through the Wand into her, forming dark red questions in her eyes and forever lost to me. That was a mistake. I’m losing focus. I break my bond with the Wand.


I try to grasp at that memory like a madwoman every time, desperately trying to hold on to what I saw in her eyes. But it slips through my mind into the far ends of my consciousness, every time, lost to me as it was to her. But I remember how it felt. That bone-chilling sense of dread. Hysterical sense of power. I cannot ignore it like she did. There is danger there. I am sure of it.

I hereby waive all copyright and related or neighboring rights together with all associated claims and causes of action with respect to this work to the extent possible under the law.