Snezhana Isakov (WIP)

[Quote]

-- [Quote source]

Backstory

No one knows exactly how the Isakov family first came to power. No one knows what the ghosts of Okiros saw in them to give them total sovereignty. No one knew if, once upon a time, the family cared about their fellow peers. It didn’t matter. By the time the three Isakovan Children were born no one could remember a time where they weren’t neglectful to their people. No one could remember an Okiros that wasn’t choking in rot and decay.

For what it was worth, they were never blamed for the failings of her family name. Each and every Isakov who had come to power was blinded by it, becoming more concerned with pleasure and status than caring for their own children. They were mad, everyone in town knew, and just as much they knew the children were headed towards the same sort of madness. Yet there was nothing they could do. The children were insulated by riches, and no matter how innocent they were now, the madness was their destiny.

Snezhana was the oldest. She wanted to be a painter. No one noticed, save for her siblings; and, in time, the spirits of Okiros.

As their parents and families continued to chase pleasure after pleasure, the Children were practically raised by the departed. In lieu of excesses, they were taught of the world, of the common people that would live and die without ever seeing an ounce of their privilege. They learned the practical magics deemed too dirty for the elite to use, practiced chores deemed beneath a person of their name, were the first Isakovans in generations to actually tend to the dead. And in time, the three felt fearful that one day, all of this would be gone. That they would be consumed by the family madness and all of this would be not but a dream.

Snezhana was fourteen the last time she saw her mother. Her mother wanted to take her somewhere no Isakov would ever worry themselves with mortal burdens again. And not soon after, the spirits offered a final escape. A chance to go to town and atone for the mistakes of their blood. Her siblings jumped at the chance, of course, for they grew to hate their bloodline, and wanted any other life other than to live a life free of madness. And Snezhana had to follow, for who else would take care of them in the real world?

The night they escaped, Snezhana watched as every single Isakovan left in her home disappeared, joyous as they dissolved into something else. She had to - what would her siblings think if they saw her crying in the morning?

Okiros recovered. All things do, given time. What quarrels of power were ignited were shut down when the spirits started morphing into monsters, the lock of the Isakov’s blessings broken, allowing them to achieve their truest forms. Whatever dangers the spirits posed were quelled by Snezhana, her teachings making her near prodigal in the art of spirit tending and exorcism. And whatever status this would have given was squashed in the fact that no one wanted to risk the madness taking hold of them. So Okiros stabilized - not the most prosperous community, but a safe one. Healthier than it ever had been. A normal town, ready to join the wider world.

And Snezhana grew old the fastest. She was the one left to raise her siblings, and when they struck out as skilled exorcists of their own, she took control of a simple exorcist’s hub, a way for them to be a member of a community and nothing more. And while her brother became an advocate for the people’s rights, and while her sister left to bring the world’s bounties back home, Snezhana stayed, the rock of the exorcists, a solid spinster a spirit could rely on, and nothing more.

Sometimes she could hear her mother in her dreams. Sometimes, she wishes she stayed.

• [Entry]
• [Entry]
• [Entry]
• [Entry]

• Physically Weak
• Gets Tired Easily
• [Entry]
• [Entry]