There was exactly one reason Bri would voluntarily leave the house on her own. In every district of the town of Mareen there was at least one church of the Myriad – the pantheon of Gods that the majority of Merinian people believed in. Fortunately for her, the one in the Traveller’s District was only a short walk away and she could get there with minimal human contact. 

The Traveller’s Church was a relatively new building, crafted by the many hands of the Myriad worshippers who came through town, and as such it was a humble construction: wooden foundations and stone floors greeted people from all over the Merinian countries and beyond – Mareen was a stopping point for so many travellers and Bri enjoyed the atmosphere in this church. There were always a few families passing through, giving offerings at the shrine, and lone travellers offering prayers on one of the many floor cushions they could kneel at. The atmosphere was hushed and warm, with incense filling the room with sweet smoke that seemed to calm her from the inside out.

“Brienne.” The hushed voice of one of the three priests here greeted her as she entered. Hooded so her eyes were not visible, she smiled warmly under its shadow, her hands pressed together and hidden under the draping sleeves of her red and black robes. This was an Eye of Hilene – one of the priests dedicated specifically to one of the three Gods of the Myriad. “It is good to see you again.”

“And you, Sister-Eye,” Bri responded politely, dipping her head in greeting. “Just here for my usual prayers today.”

“Of course. Go with Hilene’s blessing.”

Brienne dipped her head again, slipping her shoes off at a designated stand and padding to a free cushion. The soft fabric was warm under her knees, scented lightly with sandalwood to open and calm her senses. There was something about her little weekly routine that was comforting, like the moment she was inside these walls a bubble of safety surrounded her and nothing could hurt her. 

“Hilene,” she greeted automatically, her voice a hushed murmur that fell from her lips and rolled to join with the background whispers. “Woman of Wisdom and Change, crooked lady of Compassion, I beg your welcome to this sacred place.”

Perhaps it was her imagination, but the air grew just a little warmer around her as she finished the traditional evocation. “I visited Barnaby again this week,” she said, telling her Goddess as she always did of the events of her week, even if She probably already knew, “Your kindness is still as strong in him as ever. Oh, and I had a dream I’m going to write into a story! There was a ship on the ocean, searching for someone, and a great monster rose from the depths to devour it whole… I don’t know what the story will be about exactly, but I know I just have to put what I dreamt to paper somehow.”

She carried on like that for a long time, occasionally looking up at the painting of Hilene that sat on the altar alongside the two other Gods: Nidarr and Mirae. Her young face was warm and kind, looking down upon them all with rich brown cheeks lifted by a gentle smile. She loved all three Gods of the Myriad, of course – to observe one was to observe Them all. But there was something about her chosen Patron’s gaze that soothed her mind and filled her heart with peace.

…Peace which she absolutely needed right now, as no sooner had she finished her prayers than the church doors burst open, breaking the stillness with a loud creak and groan. A woman stumbled in with her dress singed and still smoking, dragging a young girl with her who looked to only just have reached her teenage years. The girl was kicking and screaming, even biting at her mother’s hands to try and break her grasp, swearing all kinds of insults and threats toward her.

“Sisters, help us, please!” she wailed, as the three priestesses quickly gathered to help her restrain the girl, “My daughter’s got Icarus!”

Oh no. Bri’s heart jumped into her throat – Icarus Syndrome was one of the most dangerous illnesses she knew of. The church probably had something in place to protect it, right? She hoped so as she watched on in horror, unable to look away. The girl twisted and thrashed in her rage even as the priestesses rounded to lower her to the floor, brown hair clinging to the sweat on her brow and obscuring her face. 

“How long has this been going on for?” Spoke the Eye of Hilene, gently stroking the girl’s hair even as she fought and swore. 

“About six months, I-.. we thought she’d be okay but it’s getting worse–” The woman broke off into sobs, covering her face with her hands, “She used to be such a sweet thing…” 

“The alchemical wards in this place will keep her Éla at bay,” spoke another of the priestesses, a Blade of Nidarr in shimmering silver and gold robes. They acted as the security of the church, often concealing scarcely-used weapons beneath their robes, and the perfectly calm demeanor of the priestess was immediately calming – if she had this under control it would all be fine. “We will wait for her to burn out and take her to the hospital.”

The child laughed, seeming to deflate entirely at that. The smile on her face was crazed, bags under her expressionless eyes making her look years older than she was, and she immediately stopped struggling, “Fuck it, just take me. Anything’s better than this.”

The priestesses each looked to one another, the Eye examining her face for a long, silent moment before nodding to her Sisters. Cautiously, orchestrated by the whispering of those still remaining in the building and the gentle sobbing of the girl’s mother, they loosened their grip on the girl. She didn’t even bother to push to her feet, remaining dead weight and defeated as the Blade lifted her to carry her out of the building, followed closely behind by her mother.

The stillness in the church returned with deafining quickness. For a long moment people remained in place, shocked and shaken by what they had seen. Some quickly returned to their muttered prayers, others waited a moment before leaving themselves – and Bri was among them. Muttering an apology to Hilene and a thanks to the Myriad that the situation was contained, she hurried out of the building and returned home with her head to the ground.

A Magi in the flesh… Brienne had always heard of them but they were usually kept secret by their families or taken immediately to the hospital before anything could happen. The magic-weilding people of the world were rare and unstable, holding a power no human should hold, and that curse was evident in the illness they all seemed to inevitably contract.
Icarus affected everyone differently, she knew. Dad told her most end up either filled with destructive rage or self-destructing, their emotions blown far out of proportion and weaponised by their uncontrollable powers. Many would spend the rest of their lives in a hospital warded the way the Church was – so that their connection to their magic was dampened.

“Hey, Bri.” Dad’s voice was soft and cautious; the warm bass of his voice soothing her immediately as he peeked his way into her bedroom where she sat with a pillow hugged to her chest. “How are you feeling? You look frazzled.”

“There was a Magi at the church,” she sighed, shifting where she sat on her bed so he could perch beside her. Her father’s smile crinkled the bags under his eyes, narrowing and shadowing his already dark eyes so they looked like tiny pools of endless darkness. Brienne had always found the concept of ‘crying into the void’ a comforting one, and if the void was anywhere it was in her father’s gentle gaze. “Icarus. Her mother brought her in kicking and screaming… she seemed so scared.”

“She probably was,” he sighed, resting a soothing hand on her knee. “Icarus is… terrible. For the Magi as much as anyone.”

“Her mother said she’d had it for six months… I wonder what broke her like that?” 

“It could have been anything, pet. Six months is a long time to be suffering without real help – she’ll be better off now.”

Would she? The girl seemed so defeated at the thought of being taken to the hospital, like hope had been drained from her entirely. Even the rage so characteristic of Icarus Syndrome went away the moment they threatened it. Brienne couldn’t imagine being carted away from her family to be shut in isolation from the world for the rest of her life. As much as she liked to stay indoors, she would rather it be on her own terms.

"Dad, you work with Magi a lot, right?"

"On the occasion they put me in the wards, yes."

"What really causes them? You're a psychiatrist, you must know something."

He frowned, then, shifting where he sat to puch the pillow away from her face a little so he could look her in the eye. "I thought you believed in the Myriad's teachings?"

"I do, I just..." Brienne wasn't sure where she was going with this. She couldn't get the image out of her mind of that poor girl's wild, staring eyes. The way she screamed, like screaming would somehow free her from whatever torment was going through her mind. "They can't be right about everything. If Éla comes from the Gods, why can't they take it back?"

Dad gave her that grimace he always did when she talked about religious stuff -- the polite, uncomfortable confusion that told her he'd rather talk about something else, even if he was trying to hide it. "That's not a question I know how to answer, pet, but... they think it's a genetic mutation. Something in the air after the Cataclysm changed their biology. They think maybe it'll calm down the further we get from those times."

"So it's just a natural thing?" She wasn't sure if that was comforting or not, but at least it meant there was hope beyond relying on Gods who had done nothing so far. Hilene's breath, was she really doubting Them after one incident? "Like an evolution thing?"

"Maybe." Dad heaved a long sigh, opening his arms for a hug she gladly ditched her pillow to crawl into, burying her face into the warmth of his chest and breathing in the strange comfort of his disinfectant-and-cologne smell.

“What’s important for us outside of the research teams isn’t how it happened. It’s that it exists, and we’re working on helping them.”

Bri simply nodded at that, nuzzling a little closer as tears fell from her eyes unbidden, dampening his jumper as he rubbed her back in soothing circles. Somehow the damp cotton against her cheek was comforting too, grounding her to something real and good. Tomorrow she would go back to her routines, forget this happened; maybe then this heavy feeling in her chest would leave her alone.