Trigger Warning: Her death paragraph contains pretty disturbing concepts and imagery. And... honestly, Idril is herself a kind of disturbing concept... Stay safe folks.
Idril
…. Well. Where to begin with this one…
She was… she had a tendency… she always….
Let me start over.
Idril was a madwoman. So much so that it became a running joke in the thirteen. If you asked an outsider which member they would least like to meet in a dark alley they would say Morzan; an insider would say Idril.
I know this might sound hypocritical (believe me when I say that I am aware of the irony), but Idril's situation was entirely different from the rest of us. We became broken in various ways over our lifetimes… Idril came into the world lacking several functions vital for a healthy existence. For one, she utterly lacked the capacity for feeling. Not that she was dispassionate or unempathetic, plenty of the thirteen were. She did not feel anything: no joy, no anger, no fear, no pleasure, and no pain. On a separate note, she was evil incarnate. She knew right from wrong in the academic sense and chose, with purpose and ill intent, to do as much harm as she could. Not out of sadism, she got no gratification from her actions, but just because she was intolerably bored.
She never told us exactly where she was born, or any detail of her childhood actually. I think she considered it unworthy of mentioning. I do know the fate that befell her mother and Aunt, two witches living alone in an isolated stretch of forest. Idril, at barely six years old, was taught which plants around their home were dangerous to protect the child from consuming them by accident. She decided to prove the extent of their efficacy by testing them out. She then lived with the two murdered women in the same small building for two years. Eventually, a foray of soldiers found the house and brought the sprite to the nearest city. They questioned her for hours. Only one guard was convinced of her guilt and her demented nature. If he had enough time, he could have saved hundreds of lives… but fate is a cruel mistress, as we all know.
Two riders arrived in the city and were asked to assist in the interview. Normally, exercises of justice were outside of their jurisdiction, but in this very special case they agreed. They joined the interrogation and had only just begun to learn of the accusations when the situation was derailed entirely. The egg with them had its own ideas about how to handle the proceedings and chose the accused as their rider. This brought into play a little-used but utterly damning clause: any vestment of their previous life mattered not at all once they became Shur'tugal. This applied to any indiscretions: Riders were above the justice of any one society. She could have been brought to trial by the council, but she played up her innocence so well that they opted to give her a clean slate.
She was careful throughout her training to maintain a spotless reputation. The five-foot girl with short honey-blonde curls had an easy enough time, so long as no one looked too long at her utterly soulless hazel eyes. Incidents occurred, but they were never linked back to her. Her studies gravitated toward herb lore, and from this groundwork, she built a staggering repertoire of drugs that influenced the psyche. (All directly under the order's nose). It was with their influence that she approached feeling anything for the first time, and she grew psychologically dependent on them. I do not know how this affected her dragon. Even in those days, they did not speak. The dragon never learned to understand the common tongue. They were also blind and were thus eternally reliant on Idril for their sight. From what little Idril said, I may have some insight into how the two were drawn together. ***** hatched with an opposite affliction; they seemed to feel too much. They were trusting, almost completely innocent, easily overstimulated, and needed Idril's emptiness to balance their excess.
It was this complex duo that hunted us down with the intention of drugging our food stores. Only my paranoia and Siyamak's skill saved us all from a grizzly death. Once confronted, she was totally unbothered and even asked to join us instead. When questioned, she simply said that she was bored and she thought I had the potential to be interesting.
I almost regret facilitating Idril's release upon the world. Of my many crimes, it is, without doubt, one of the worst. She haunted the thirteen as much as the rest of Alagaesia, and we all took care to guard against her many tricks. Once, I willingly joined her in one of her benders in an effort to understand her. When I tell you I have never experienced anything like it… and she did this nearly every day! The sensations, though unpleasant beyond reason, were "interesting" to her. Idril's world was always in harsh disconnect to the world around her; she existed in her own, separate reality. I will not even pretend to understand the precepts upon which this world existed. I think, if I ever did, then I would truly know fear.
Throughout the years, Idril remained exactly the same. Feast or famine, she carried on her floating, distant, sing-song threats and morbid jokes. The only way one could measure the years was by watching *****. The dragon never reached out with their thoughts in the first place, so no one knew what was happening in their head (except Idril, of course). But one could tell that they grew ever more… unpredictable, almost as if they were more an extension of Idril herself rather than an independent being. She disclosed once that, after the banishing, her partner had stopped using her to see, choosing (either in madness or despair) to live in eternal darkness. The dragons of the thirteen would not go near them, much as animals fight approaching any danger. I find it easier to recall images of *****, mostly because I believe that my observations are not accurate to who they truly were (this has a fascinating implication for the limitations of even the most elemental magics, but this is not the place for that discussion). For example, I recall well that they gravitated towards sounds, particularly chimes and rattles. They accumulated many odd bits of junk in the dragon hold over the decades because of this, many of which Shruikan opted to never disturb.
Her death sticks out in my memory, no matter how much I try to avoid it. After a week of silence from her estate, I finally made the trip to investigate. (It wasn't unusual to not hear from her for many days after a particularly bad trip, but often she would need to be brought inside, fed, and given water after these.) I arrived at a scene from any sane creature's worst nightmares. Scattered around and within her home were corpses; men and women who had seemingly dropped to the ground where they stood and died. To a one, their faces were frozen in expressions of such raw suffering and animal fear, their hands clawed uselessly at their throats, at their clothing, but none were injured in any obvious way. When I reached the central chamber, the sight nearly made me sick: ***** was contorted in a painful-looking spiral, their maw hanging open in a long since silenced roar. Their sightless eyes gazed off into space but with a frenzied look of betrayal still obvious in their milky depths. And, in the center of four massive tipped-over cauldrons, Idril sat in perfect meditation, a look of such serenity and peace on her face that she looked exactly like a little angel. I destroyed the place and grizzly friezes within. I am the only living being who knows the truth of that event.
I could never unravel the mystery of Idril. Her ailment is unlike any I have ever seen. Plenty of humans are born with varying degrees of disconnect, unique cognition, or lowered empathy, but most of these go on to live perfectly healthy, satisfying lives. They see things from a new perspective, but they are still as much a part of the world as anyone else. Idril was not this. Or, if she was, that fact had nothing to do with the apparent malice lurking within her. Her psychosis was born of some innate misprogramming or circumstantial event of which I know nothing.
I felt a closeness to Idril, and frankly, I don't know what that says about me. As much as we were all relieved to be free of her, I can't help but miss her when I feel that creeping sense of… boredom.
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I know I say all of them are my favorite... but I really like exploring Idril, particularly the way the world responds to her.
Disclaimer: This character in no way represents any real community. She's just an asshole.
