#madriga

[genderlessjacky]

this is a Luisa Madrigal appreciation post so fuck all of yall Luisa-antis , she is amazing and deserves the world

if you know any Luisa fanfic pls tell me i need them rn

[longveil]

From Torment, A Bargain

[ The Wrong Way - REYKAT ]

Souls wept as Madriga walked the halls of Torghast.

The Jailer’s great Tower of the Damned had once been reserved only for the vilest of souls cast into the Maw, and every time she was summoned it filled the Herald with disgust, caused her to draw her dark wings close to her body as if they could protect her. But Madriga was Mawsworn, no longer Ascended. Bound to the suffering of the Banished One, sworn to undo the deceptions of the Archon.

This was her Service now.

That service returned her to Torghast, which no longer housed only the most irredeemable souls of the Maw but those of interest to the Jailer. Those whom he might use. Those who had earned his wrath. Those who had failed him.

Madriga stepped into a rough-hewn passage, ignoring the cries left in her wake, to stop before a gibbet bound in runes to torment the soul within. But, even under the misery of the runes, the soul didn’t cry out, didn’t beg for mercy. She could feel it watching her. Waiting in its agony.

“Your suffering has been deemed adequate for your failure,” she intoned with an air of formality, the words ringing hollow off the broken stone walls. “You will return to serve.” One gauntleted hand slowly moved over the runes, darkening them one by one.

“My failure?” The soul’s voice, ethereal with the lacking of a corporeal form, still managed to convey disdain, each word growing clearer as Madriga darkened the runes of torment. “I told you the necromancer would be useless. Too much zealot, not enough vision. His little tantrum should’ve been expected.”

The soul gave a distant sigh of relief as Madriga’s hand passed over the last rune. “I’m only sorry I didn’t get a better chance to try out that body before he destroyed it. Lovely work, it put my former mortal colleagues to shame.”

“Cease your prattling,” Madriga snapped, taking a soulkeeper crystal from her robes. “You were sent to gain the necromancer’s aid in the mortal realm, not wallow in the flesh, and suffered for failing Him. Be thankful you were remembered in Her eyes.”

“Wait now, wait,” the reply came quickly, the soul backing away from the crystal’s draw. “I’m not the only one who was punished for this, was I? You’re here yourself, Madriga, not some lackey sent in your name. One failed mortal soul, even as accomplished as I am, doesn’t merit a Herald’s personal attention.” Insubstantial words grew calculating, “You’ve been diminished as well. What if I could bring you back into their favor?”

Madriga’s hand stopped, the crystal held in abeyance. “Speak.”

“He’s so focused on his chosen weapon of Light. Yes, the whispers reach even here,” the soul’s ethereal words were almost dismissive. “But you remember what the Void did to your former realm, don’t you, Herald? How Shadow almost brought Bastion to its knees. What if I could get you a... conduit? Hmm? Something to draw Shadow like roots draw water from the ground? What a present that would be for your Master, a gift of Void approaching his precious bearer of Light. He’d be grateful.”

“I can deliver this to you, Madriga. You’d like to be elevated again, wouldn’t you?”

There was a long silence before the Herald spoke again. “What do you need?”

“Another body, and one of your Mawsworn for the fetching,” the soul’s words were more a demand than a request, laced with arrogance. “I knew the feel of her before your pitiful necromancer sent me back here, and I can tell them where the conduit can be found. Come now, Herald, you know you want to see Bastion fall for what they did to you. How better than to fall to Shadow? Let me... help you.”

The Herald abruptly thrust the soulkeeper crystal forward, drawing the soul within despite its wordless protests and struggling. Madriga held it in her hand for a long moment, the crystal glowing with a sickly green instead of the expected amber warmth. “You will get what you need, but don’t forget your place. I am still a Herald, once of the Ascended. You are merely a mortal soul, no matter what taint is upon you. Fail again, and I’ll see you cast into a soulforge myself.”

She returned the crystal to her robes, turning her back on the empty gibbet as she strode out of Torghast.

“Then you will truly know torment, Haverty.”

[once-upon-a-time-a-pendejo]