Vortex is the vengeful ghost of lance thunder. The prison vlad releases him from exists outside of time and that’s why his ghost can show up while he’s still alive. Thank you for your time
World Building Week day 1- Origins. I am late, as always. I finished this last night, so technically still on day 1. Prob gonna be a day late for all of these.
Anyway, some vague character building for the season 3 ghost trio- Vortex, Nocturne, and Undergrowth. No, the three people they talk about are not the same person. These all fall in the same universe as my Lost Time fic btw.
Enjoy!
Vortex’s first memory was of the storm.
It swirled around him, a mix of earthly rain and ghostly mist and electricity bristling through the swirling clouds. It cradled him, a perfect bed for a child. It was the place he had been most at peace.
There was not a lot more to say about the memory. The wind and rain and lightning made him who he was, and had protected him. It whispered its power and its beauty to him, asleep as he formed. Of that he was certain. Of most things he was certain. He wouldn’t hear anything to the contrary.
But to himself, in the quiet at the center of the storm, he sometimes thought he remembered more. A voice in the wind, a feather-light caress, more substantial but somehow less memorable.
“I’m sure you will create great works of art in the sky,” it said. “I feel it, and I know you will flourish, even without me.”
“Let the sky be your canvas, my child. Never let anyone stay your brush.”
Vortex couldn’t say if it was the storm or his mind or something else. He remembered the voice so faint, he never admitted it. He wasn’t certain if it had been real.
But he was certain he had felt loved.
In the darkest nights, he thought about his childhood. Or… what of it there was.
A quiet voice, singing him to sleep, teaching him how a person’s dreams revealed themselves. Caring hands, holding him, comforting him. A beautiful face… one whose features were cast in a mist of forgotten memories, but he could remember she was beautiful, even if she wasn’t, because he would defend the claim anyway.
He didn’t remember a lot about her, but he could remember what she said on that day. The day she left.
“I have to go, to protect my family,” she had said. She smiled and kissed his forehead. “Not only you, but others… and I can’t let it be known who you are.”
“What do you mean, Mama?” he’d asked, scared and small, at the time.
She hugged him tight. “If they knew you were mine, you’d never be safe… Nocturne, I know you will grow up strong, but even you can’t know who you are.”
“But I do know who I am!” He’d insisted, turning in her arms to look up at her face. “Why shouldn’t I?” He hadn’t known what she meant, even though now he could assume some things. She had smiled, soft and bitter.
“So that you never put yourself in harm’s way, my dear. I know you want me to stay, but I must go, and there are three very important things you should know, Nocturne.”
She sat down, pulling him into her lap, and he rested his head on her shoulder. She held his hand close.
“No matter what, you are important. I know you will be strong, but you are your own ghost, and no one can take your freedom from you. You are an amazing, wonderful, beautiful child, and I will always love you.” She smiled and kissed him on the forehead again, making him giggle. “That’s first.”
“Second…” Her smile wavered and fell. “I may not come back, dear… But I’m fairly certain that even if I don’t, there will be someone you can turn to if you are in danger. If you can find him, his name is Clockwork. He may not know you, or know who you mean when you speak of me, but he will help you.” Her smile came back, sad and quick. “He can be grumpy and scary sometimes, but he is kind in his core, so do not be afraid of him if you need to find him. Alright?”
Nocturne nodded quickly, squeezing her hand as he saw her eyes glisten.
“And third… Nocturne, if nothing else, remember this warning.” She held him close, grip almost painful. “Never trust the Council of Observants. Many ghosts respect them, and you should too if nothing for the danger they pose. And many ghosts may see them as the law of the land, but… never, ever trust the Council. They will try to trick you, or twist you, or break you to suit them, and never allow them that pleasure. Stay as far away from them as possible, if you can, darling.”
Nocturne nodded slowly. Her tears never quite fell. “Are they why you’re leaving, Mama?” She nodded silently.
“I love you, Nocturne.” And then, without another word, she was singing. Nocturne could put anyone to sleep, but it was only her voice that could so easily rest his eyes.
He had fallen asleep to her song one last time. And when he had awakened, she was gone.
He always held those words close. He never let anyone control him. And when he finally crossed paths with the Council- and they tried to stop him, control him, destroy him, as she had said- he dismissed their words and left a path of destruction in his wake as he went.
Of course, they pursued him. But he remembered her words. And Clockwork, despite himself, decided to help him, just as she had said. He was soft inside, as she had said.
And Nocturne did as he pleased, and grew strong and powerful, and always had his freedom. Just as she had said.
It was one of his earliest memories...
“They have no one to protect them,” she said. “So we must be their guardians.”
“Yes Mother,” Undergrowth replied, kneeling next to a small flower bud that was just beginning to bloom. “But, protect them from what?”
She smiled, kneeling next to him, her hands on his shoulders. “They cannot move like us, or like the humans of the world. Plants are slow, patient, hardy. But sometimes, people can destroy them without realizing it. They grow their own homes, and build over nature, without knowing what they do.” She waved a hand over the bud, and it glowed and bloomed in a moment, bobbing gently. Undergrowth smiled with her.
“That is why we must remind them. We protect the plants like children, Undergrowth, so that they can live in harmony with animals and the rest of the world. Do you understand?”
Undergrowth breathed deeply the scent of the flower, smiling and closing his eyes. “Yes mother, I’ll protect the children.”
He heard her sigh, almost sounding sad. “I know you will, my child.”
She never returned.
She said she might be a while, but she never came back. It took a whole year for him to realize it. She never was coming back.
She had gone ‘to protect what she loves’, which he assumed meant a forest or brush in danger somewhere. He had wanted to go, but she had told him to stay, and wait.
“Sometimes, people do not care for the lives of our plants,” she had whispered, not meeting his eyes. “I try to make them care… I hope it will work… But you must stay here, and protect your garden of children, alright?”
He had sat in his garden, head in his hands. She never came back. She had gone to stop the destruction but- she never came back. They must not care.
Those people did this, he was sure. The humans and animals and other ghosts that didn’t care about their flora, that cut it away without a care. They must have cut her down as well.
Years passed and the people never stopped. Species died out, even though he tried hard to protect them. He eventually forgot her face, almost forgot her voice, tried to forget his pain. He took care of his garden, his children. He protected them. The tried to keep humans from hurting them. But the humans always did.
