AN: Firstly, this is not a self-insert. I created this penname ignorant to what kind of story I was going to write, and the character (Sabyl Kossa) the story is focused around was created long before either this penname or this story. Secondly, this is not only my first story on ffn, but my first fanfic. Any constructive critism would be greatly appreciated, and I hope to see a great deal of enthusiasm in it being given, for I assure you I shall enthusiastically recieve it. Lastly, MidnightAbyss beta read this, and so I would like to extend a huge thanks to her not only for that, but for bringing me to ffn which thus inspired the writing of this fanfic.
Disclaimer: Guild Wars is the property of ArenaNet and NCsoft, and various characters that may be used later in the series may also be such. Sabyl and Zyyb Kossa are properties of me, and though I doubt anyone would want to write a fanfic about them I request that anyone wishing to do so contact me first. Anyone who does not do so and posts a story with their names will quickly be reported for the theft of my names. They are obviously uncommon names so there will be little doubt where they came from, so please, if you absolutely feel the need to, just ask, and don't expect the response you want to hear. As said in the AN this is not a self-insert. Sabyl Kossa preceeds my registration and this story.
Prologue
Ever since we were children Zyyb and I frightened eachother. You see, we were both gifted children of the god, Grenth: God of Ice and Death. However, though we were sisters of blood, talent, and faith, we typically managed to sicken, unnerve, and sometimes terrify one another...
Zyyb was, and still is, a Necromancer, and often spent her training in crypts and graveyards, raising the decaying bodies of the dead to do their bidding. As we grew older she explained it as a pact between Grenth, that he may keep the soul of the body (which I hear is what he truely desires) and in return for her faith is granted the ability to reincarnate the corpses of the recently deceased and use them for her own personal desire. The 'minions' are only as durable as their host, and the power of the Necromancer. If left unattended, they will simply die out, and so she also had to learn ways to increase the lifespan of her minions by sacrificing her own. She assured me her sacrifices were in no way long term, and were quickly mended unlike that of her minions, as she never fails to mention. There are other things involved too, dark rites and rituals, command over insect swarms, and, eventually, an unusual outlook on death itself.
I, however, am a Ritualist. I have direct control over Grenth's beloved souls and bend them to my will with, what is best described as, spiritual chains and shackles, and, for the more difficult or unruly, heavily weighted armor. I am, to this day, unsure of how spirits whom are unaffected by weight and physical substance can be chained or weighed down, but my masters often reassured me that the words I previously used are merely similes and easily fathomable terms for what we are really doing. Typically, the spirits I summon are those of emotion or action, and are defined by the aforementioned. For example, a spirit of Pain will cause direct pain to another, while a spirit of Life will live the duration of it's life, roughly twenty seconds, and then die to grant life to friends and allies around it. As with the Necromancer, the duration and strength of the spirit is also defined by the strength of the Ritualist. Furthermore, I am granted power over both the healing and destructive aspects of the spirits to use as I will.
While upon reading this, the actions may seem intreguing, and may even convince you to attempt such things yourself, it shall prove to no avail. If you are able to read these words and are not yet honing the gifts Grenth (or any other god) has given you you are probably incapable of doing such. I must encourage that the lack of the aforementioned abilities should not be something to mourn, for such gifts, atleast in the case of my god, Grenth, can be just as easily a curse, for many a night I have been robbed of sleep by the things I have seen that were done by my gift, but even more nights was my sleep robbed by the things my sister has done. I do not blame her, nor does she blame me, for we both understand that this is simply the way our gifts have manifested, and neither of us would ever have the audacity to proclaim that one's gift is no more or less frightening than the others.
The years, all the way up to that of womanhood, were spent honing the skills of our various gifts from Grenth, and when the time came to depart, our ever still present fear of eachother caused us to part not only our homes, but our seperate ways. I never asked where she had headed, nor did she I. I figured, however, that my destination was obvious, for the only place I could complete, and advance, my training was at the Shing Jea Monastery of Cantha.
It might suprise you to tell you that I'm blind. All ritualists are atleast physically. However, I'll argue anyday that my vision is probably sharper and more efficient than that of your eyes. Instead of seeing things on the surface, the way most people do, we look at things directly at the soul. As I walked down the road leading to a harbor town of my small island (which had never really recieved a name due to the fact it was not near enough to any of the major continents to have been discovered, and that it was owned not by men, but by Grenth itself) I was amazed by the number of souls that inhabited his place. The place I had lived was dead due to the touch of Grenth found there, but here the world was teeming with life. I was amazed by the spiritual glow of grass, and how strange it seemed to see spirit so carved and directed as the road before me, and with every new spirit I saw, whether it bird, animal, plant, or earth, made me feel in some way more whole, for it helped me to realize just how much there was to see and feel in this world, and how much really did exist. However, it was not only my blindfolded eyes that saw, for with every new spirit I would feel, smell, hear, and sometimes even taste it just to feel closer to it. I'll admit many of the things I did I could have lived without doing, but after seeing for all my years the dead and shackled spirits of Grenth it made me feel suddenly alive to see those that were living and that I had no control of, and it was then, on this road, many days away from my destination, that my life would change forever.