Scene: Cursed Practice – Zixy's First Tether
Location: A silent cliffside field surrounded by fog-draped pine trees. The ground is soft with damp moss. A few scarecrow-like training dummies sway in the windless air — faceless, yet eerily lifelike.
Zixy knelt in front of one, fingers wrapped in black silk thread soaked in her VYTHRA.
She held up a tiny cloth effigy sewn from spectral fiber and stitched with bone needles — her newest experiment.
Zixy (softly):
"Okay, creepy doll. Let's see what you can do."
Her HUD flickered.
NEW ABILITY: HEX THREAD – CURSED TETHER
STATUS: ACTIVE
She pricked her finger. Blood ran along the glowing thread, then snaked out like a phantom line — binding to the dummy's chest.
The air rippled.
Zixy felt it — the tether latch onto something deeper than the body. Its soul.
Zixy (eyes narrowing):
"There you are."
To test it, she lightly tapped her own wrist with a knife.
The thread shimmered — the dummy's chest cracked violently as if it had taken the blow.
Zixy grinned.
SECONDARY ABILITY DETECTED: MARIONETTE COMMAND
COMPATIBLE TARGET FOUND
She stood, rolling her shoulders.
Zixy (mock-polite):
"Let's dance, darling."
She raised her right hand. The dummy's right arm jerked up stiffly.
She twirled. The dummy mirrored her spin, slapping its own head on a low branch.
Zixy:
"Oops."
Then she raised her leg — the dummy leapt into the air and landed face-first into a bush of thorns.
Zixy (snorting):
"Okay that was unnecessary, but very satisfying."
She stopped. The tether shimmered again.
ACTIVATING: PAIN RELAY – EFFIGY LINK
BLOOD MATCH CONFIRMED
CRAFTING VOODOO DOLL…
She held up the cursed doll. A spectral thread linked it to the scarecrow.
Zixy:
"Now let's be delicate… or not."
She stabbed the doll's stomach gently.
The scarecrow's center ruptured, wood splinters exploding outward as if gutted.
Then a sharper jab to the neck.
Its head spun violently — as if struck by invisible hands — before snapping backward.
NOTE: TETHERED TARGET – ARMOR BYPASS CONFIRMED
VYTHRA INFLUX: DRAINED
Zixy exhaled slowly. The tether dissipated. The effigy faded from her fingers, scattering like ash.
She stood still in the mist, listening to the quiet.
Zixy (softly, to herself):
"So… I'm the scary one now."
She gave a small, thoughtful smile.
Zixy:
"Let's see how they like dancing to my tune."
Zixy stood alone in the heart of the deadwood. The soil here remembered pain — she could feel it in her bones. Perfect for what came next.
Around her, six humanoid-shaped scarecrow dummies levitated slightly, animated by cursed strings.
She raised her hand.
Thread Snare (Hexroot Binding)
The ground twitched beneath the dummies.
Suddenly, dozens of black, cursed threads erupted like vines from the mud, coiling around their legs, arms, torsos — pinning them in place with spectral force.
The scarecrows jerked and twitched, trying to float away — but the Hexroot dragged them back down like graves reaching for the living.
Zixy stepped toward them.
Zixy (smirking):
"Go ahead. Struggle."
With each motion, the dummies snapped back toward her — tugged by invisible threads that responded to her heartbeat.
Witchbrand Curse (Soul Tag Passive)
She flicked her finger, sending tiny cursed glyphs into the air.
One by one, the dummies lit up with crimson sigils on their chests — glowing with each successful hex.
1...
2...
3 stacks.
As the third one landed, their glow flickered — like something vital had been stolen.
Zixy (softly):
"Three marks. No mercy."
On a real enemy, their regen would be halved, shields crumbling. If they died now... the sigils would jump to another poor soul like hungry wolves.
She waved her hand — a single scarecrow exploded into threads, simulating a kill.
The Witchbrand detonated, sending a wave of spiritual backlash that blew two more dummies off their cursed vines.
She turned to her clay altar.
From her pouch, she removed a small clay figure — already shaped like herself.
Doll Splitter (Effigy Ritual)
Zixy (chanting):
"Split soul. Half price."
A soft breath. A single drop of blood onto its chest.
The clay figure twitched… then stood.
It turned to face her.
It had her eyes.
The Doll Splitter floated beside her, mimicking her stance — and immediately cast a smaller version of Thread Snare, binding one dummy in place with less force.
Zixy (grinning):
"Oh. You're a fast learner."
She took a step forward — the Doll copied.
She raised a hand — it mimicked.
She stood still.
And then shattered the doll herself — with a whisper:
Zixy:
"Boom."
The Doll exploded into a cyclone of threaded shrapnel, piercing nearby dummies with binding wires and psychic shock. If this were battle, they'd be paralyzed.
Finally, she walked to a small stump and sat.
Her breathing slowed.
She touched her chest — over her heart.
Then she looked to the right, at a phantom simulation of a mortally wounded ally — conjured by her training charm. A fake, but bleeding nonetheless.
Her fingers trembled.
Blood Stitch Ritual (Forbidden Restoration)
Zixy stepped over.
She knelt.
And without hesitation — threaded her fingers into the phantom's chest as if weaving a blanket.
Crimson thread poured from her fingertips into the dying figure.
And as they revived, her own body began to swell with bruises, mirror fractures, and phantom pain.
She hissed — nearly collapsed.
Zixy (whispering):
"You want life back? Let me sew it into you."
When it was done… the phantom sat up, breathing.
She collapsed to one knee, smiling through the pain.
Zixy (to herself):
"One life per battle. Better make it count."