Surcease of Sorrow
Content Warning: this ritual, and especially the in-character transcription of the ritual text, deals with themes of suicide and assisted dying.
Rules
Winter Magnitude 6
Performing the Ritual
Performing this ritual takes at least 2 minutes of roleplaying. This ritual targets a character, who must be present throughout.
The target must be willing. If they are unwilling or unaware of the full purpose of the ritual, it fails.
Effects
At the completion of the ritual, the target dies and slowly turns to dust; even their bones crumble away. Within one minute, their body is entirely gone, replaced instead with a pile of dust and ash that is easily scattered with a few seconds and will scatter naturally if left in an open place.
The ritual only works on a willing character who must be aware of what is happening. In the event that the target is unaware that the ritual will kill them, it fails but the target is left in no doubt as to the fact that an attempt was made to kill them.
The ritual also has no effect on characters who are already dead (although it will work on characters who are terminal), nor on creatures who are not capable of consenting to the effect.
It may or may not be powerful enough to kill a target who cannot otherwise die, or who is in some state apart from life but is still capable of giving assent. In any case, the target must still be willing, and the outcome depends on the nature of their curse. In general, at the very least it will have the same effect as the target's death count expiring and the body being physically destroyed.
A character killed with this ritual will not produce a ghost, and cannot be summoned with Whispers through the Black Gate or similar rituals. Likewise An Echo of Life Remains and magic that requires a body or part of a body to be used will not have any effect on the dust, even if it is all gathered together.
Description
During the Autumn Equinox 382YE, the ritual text for Surcease of Sorrow was given as a gift by the eternal Kaela to then Archmage of Winter Emilia Ankarien. It became part of Imperial lore following the Spring Equinox 386YE. The Declaration of Imperial lore was raised by Doctor Tiberias as proxy for the Dean of the Lyceum. The declaration said it was hoped it would ensure it as a legacy for Navarr to use until their founders' dance is complete, perhaps capturing the hope it would be used to offer swift and painless death to those who might otherwise succumb to the power of the vallorn and be used to harm their former friends.
The magic works in a similar manner to the Spring ritual Turns the Circle, but rather than accelerating natural processes it directly invokes the resonances of death and endings to painlessly kill a creature and unmake its body. Unlike Turns the Circle the ritual does not work on the remains of someone who is already dead; it requires them to be alive and capable of consenting to its use on them or it fails to work. It's not enough for the recipient of this dubious gift to be incapable of resisting - they must be able to consciously agree to and cooperate with its casting or it does nothing. This is not a ritual for murdering an enemy, to the extent it cannot be performed on a target who is not conscious.
The provenance of the original ritual text is not clear. Inscribed on plates of wood, it went into some detail and explored some peculiar philosophy. One thing of note is that it does not draw on the power of Kaela to work; there's no sign it draws on the power of any eternal and it seems to be a purely mortal creation.
Performing the Ritual
The original ritual text had extensive notes on performing Surcease of Sorrow. It compares the ritual to a funeral, so performing it with great ceremony, solemn music, quiet voices, and the trappings of mortal passing are all appropriate. It is also resonant to perform the ritual in a more private fashion, especially when the target is especially familiar to the ritualists. Having the target light a candle that they then extinguish at the end of the ritual, or the invocation of a symbolic door (or the constellation of the Door) empowers the transition from one state to another. The writer of the original text also mentioned the Three Sisters, and some astronomancers may draw on their resonance with sorrow.
A rune magician would obviously find resonance with the Rune of Ending. A theurge might consider evoking psychopomps, especially birds. When dealing with a [{Varushka|Varushkan]] subject, the virtuous animals make an excellent choice of psychopomp. In both cases, the evoked creatures guide the spirit from life to the Labyrinth. A theurge might also wish to remind the subject of the first and last doctrines of the faith – Reincarnation and the Labyrinth (when dealing with a human subject at least).
Original Ritual Text
The original ritual text goes into great detail about several subject, and includes a digression to talk about Yoorn, the Rune of Endings which is not included here as it contains nothing unfamiliar to Imperial magicians.
Life, Death and Endings
The first section contains some philosophical discussion of the nature of life and death.
Death and endings are two of the strongest resonances of the Winter Realm. To the ignorant, they are the same thing. The wise know that there is a difference between these two concepts however. For mortals, death is not the end. Living things may cease to be alive, but we know that some spiritual element persists beyond the death of the body. There is no “ending” to life as such – it is a cycle. A wheel.
Almost all mortal faiths teach that there is some subtle element to humanity that persists beyond the death and dissolution of the body. Such mortal concepts are alien to the Winter realm. For the beings of Winter, death is an ending. An irrevocable line drawn underneath a life.
Ending, by its nature, is absolute and final. Living things can die, but unliving things cannot. Only things that are alive can die, but anything, up to and including the entirety of Creation, can (and ultimately will) come to an ending. Things either are, or they are not. The living can also end, we believe, although the absolute abnegation that represents is something we can barely conceive of. The entities of the Winter realm do not see things the same way that mortals do. To the Winter realm, death as mortals understand it is just a change. The body remains, and the being may linger on as a ghost. To the creatures of Winter the ghost is the mortal transformed to a new state. Not ended, merely changed. When the ghost fades at last, however, or when it passes out of the mortal realm through the ceremonies of a priest, or the slow grinding of years, or the resolution of its unresolved business... at this point the Winter realm believes that the mortal is truly gone. Ended.
I do not agree with this belief, however. I have spoken to many ghosts, and I do not accept the consensus belief that a ghost as the same entity as the being from which it arose. It is not a transformation, but an echo. A shadow thrown by the living against the backdrop of creation that takes a little longer to fade than the light in the eyes or the beat of the heart. The creatures of Winter consider death an inevitable consequence of life – what does not live, cannot die. What lives, must die. What exists, must end. Without ending, there is no existance. Without death, there can be no true life.
I have spoken with Eternals of Winter about the nature of immortality, and while their attitudes vary they agree that if something cannot die it cannot live. The ability to change requires acceptanceof the ultimate change, from living to dead, and from dead to ended. All of this seems to counter the well-known resonance of survival. Yet the Winter eternals and the magic they are so associate with admit no paradox. Living things live only so long as they strive to live. Death, like ending, is inevitable, but it is not necessarily to be embraced. To accept the inevitable is wise – to deny that one will end or die is to risk madness. Yet the living cannot truly embrace death without being consumed by it.
If it be not now, then it be to come. If it be not to come, then it is now.
Under normal circumstances, the living must do everything they can to ensure that it is not this day. In the Winter realm, that moment of death is the embrace of the absolute end of your existence. You no longer have the potential to achieve anything, to gain wisdom. Your existence ends at the moment of your death and everything should strive to delay that moment as long as possible. Yet sometimes death is not to be avoided. Sometimes, through grief or circumstance, death is less cruel than continued life. In accepting this the Winter realm can be uncharacteristically gentle, perhaps even merciful.
The Door of Dust
The next section relates to the performance of the ritual and its effects. Sometimes, death comes not as the thief of life but as a friend long looked for. It is possible, in time, for the habit of life to become too much. Great age brings with it the slow failure of the body and the mind. Sickness or injuries that cannot be healed can make every minute a living nightmare. Grief that cannot be overcome, sorrow that cannot be endured. These are the signs that death will come not as a loss, but as a relief.
For the pilgrim, secure in the knowledge that there is an existence beyond the life of the body will perhaps fear the embrace of the Labyrinth less than they fear the pain of letting go of life. There are also those who fear that the death of the body will condemn the spirit to wander as a lost shade. Perhaps a curse, of a dark taint, or the Virus Lunarae have been employed. Perhaps the body has been infested by the vileness of the vallorn. There are any number of reasons why a mortal might desire death, or ending, and yet be unable to embrace it. This ritual, then, wields the power of Winter to bring painless death and dissolution to a single individual who chooses to accept it.
The ritual will not have any effect on someone who is not ready to die. If they cling to life - even if they are not conscious of their desire to live – then the ritual will fail. Surcease of Sorrow opens the door that leads out of life, but it is the business of the subject whether they step through it once they are aware of it.
If the recipient does choose to pass through the door of death, they instantly pass beyond life between one heartbeat and the next, between one breath an the next. There is no pain – their life simply ends in the manner of a candle being blown out.
With their spirit freed from the shackles that chain them to their flesh, their body begins to dissolve like ash, or sand through an hourglass. Over the next several minutes everything dessicates – it is as if they are transformed into a statue of themselves in a similar manner to the ritual Mark the Flesh Uncorruptible – but rather than having the enduring qualities of stone it has the absolutely transient quality of dust. The slightest touch or breath of air causes the body to begin crumbling until naught but a scattering of dust remains.
In this way, Surcease of Sorrow is the antithesis of Mark the Flesh Incorruptible. It absolutely prevents the use of spells such as Voice for the Dead, or rituals such as An Echo of Life Remains.
More, because it brings with it a sensation of absolute peace when it is invoked, it prevents the dead returning as a ghostly presence of any kind. This includes the kind of spirit called forth by Whispers through the Black Gate. For whatever reason, the profound ending brought by this ritual grants the spirit of the subject a rest that cannot be disturbed by magic.
The ritual cannot be used as a weapon, nor is it intened as such. It opens the door, but it is the choice of the subject whether they use that door. It seems to have no power over animals, or trees, or rocks. Such things do not - or cannot - choose to pass beyond life.
Working the Ritual
The third section speaks about how the unnamed author would perform the ritual. In many ways, this ritual is like a funeral and so should be performed with great ceremony. Solemn music, quiet voices, and the trappings of mortal passing are all appropriate. Wherever possible, I would seek to perform this ritual alone, in private, rather than with great pomp and ceremony but that is largely a matter of personal taste. Look to the subject in these regards. It is easy to imagine that a Freeborn subject may wish to be surrounded by friends and family, with trappings of celebraton, for example. I have performed the ritual once after a grand and joyous party, a wake at which the subject was the guest of honour. Yet once the subject had said their goodbyes, we slipped away from the festivities to a certain peaceful garden and I performed the ritual there, letting the subject's ashes fall across the flowers that they loved.
Unlike a more usual funeral however, the subject can be an active participant – indeed they must be absolutely willing for Surcease of Sorrow to have any effect at all. I would advise that each performance begin with a formal request of the subject, ensuring that they understand what is to happen. They may have regrets, or express sorrow, but they must be truly willing to pass out of life or the ritual will go awry.
You may wish to have the subject light a candle, which can then be snuffed out once the ritual is complete. The brief life of the candleflame becomes a symbol of the participant's life force, and another sign that the subject truly is a willing participant in the ritual. The ritualists may wish to evoke a symbolic door; perhaps the constellation of the Door itself which represents (among other things) the transition from one state to another. I would not choose to evoke the Drowned Man in this ritual – the connotations and symbolism is too harsh.
Rather, I might call on the Sorostis Suspire, one of the Three Sisters, who represents sorrow. Any passing is a sadness, even one that is without pain and sought out. The original text spoke of the Sorostis Suspire as the “Mother of Sighs” - as near as I can tell this is a tulpa of the Three Sisters specifically associated with elements of sorrow and gentle passing. I have experimented in this regard myself and can say with some caution that the ritual certainly works if this figure is evoked. Indeed it seemed to me that the gentle nature of the ritual was greatly enhanced with this being's name but I would still urge caution. This figure is associated with two much darker versions of the Three Sisters in the original text, after all.
The rune of Ending also resonates with this ritual. The Shears represent the end of a journey, the point at which hthere are no more choices to be made. Nothing now can be changed and all has taken its course; the thread must now be cut and an ending made. This is of course particularly appropriate to this ritual, and especially for the people of Wintermark. Tracing or drawing the rune is an appropriate act in such cases.
A theurge might consider evoking psychopomps, especially birds. When dealing with a Varushkan subject, the virtuous animals make an excellent choice of psychopomp. In both cases, the evoked creatures guide the spirit from life to the Labyrinth. A theurge might also wish to remind the subject of the first and last doctrines of the faith – Reincarnation and the Labyrinth.
I would not use blood magic to perform this ritual. It is personal preference, but I am concerned about the symbolism of bloodletting when associated with a ritual that is entirely concerned with painless transition from one state to another.
For a dramaturge, I would be cautious with this ritual. The Bishop or the Doctor both have resonance, but the performance nature of dramaturgy runs the risk of making the quiet solemnity of the ritual into something farcical. Perhaps a simple perfomance using stylised masks and language might be appropriate, but most likely only for a subject who is themselves from the League.
Regardless of the method, at the end, I would ask the subject if they are ready to pass through the door and when they answer affirmitively, close their eyes with my hand. If the subject truly wishes to pass beyond life, they will painlessly die and within a minute or at most two be reduced to dust.
Ending the Unending
The fourth section speaks of the limitations of the ritual when dealing with unnatural creatures. This ritual is not difficult to perform, but it employs the power of willing, knowing consent to powerful effect. There is some minor evidence that this ritual might allow a change to essential nature that is beyond that which can normally be achieved with ritual magic.
The original researcher of this ritual wrote extensively about a number of corrupt states that mortals may pass into that prevent or indefinitely delay the ending of life. Without exception, these states are prisons. The Doctrine of the Way makes it clear that it is the nature of the human spirit to pass into the Labyrinth, and be reborn, so that they may embrace the cycle of living and gain enightenment thereby.
This ritual potentially provides a key to the door of the cell where the undying are entrapped. If the creature is capable of consenting, and gives its consent, then the ritual should be powerful enough to destroy the body and grant peace to the tormented spirit that inhabits it.
It is of little use with ghosts and other spirits that have no true body, sadly. Yet for these creatures, the power of the priest is sufficient. This ritual might prove invaluable in dealing with sapient creatures unable to escape the torment of unending life. Obviously it is difficult to test this hypothesis. There are few enough true immortals in the world as it is. Attempts to use the rituals on husks, whether created with Winter magic, or herbs, or the taint of the vallorn, has proved untenable. These three creatures seem to be unable to comprehend the horror of their existence, and thus unable to give their consent – unable to see the door much less pass through it.
Without the cooperation of a Thule dragon, or one of the wicked volodny of Varushka, or the blasphemous unliving warriors of Axos, it is difficult to see how we might perform any experiments to determine the truth of this matter. For now it must remain uncertain – beyond the knowledge that whatever else it might do Winter magic brings an end to thing and nothing – not even creation itself – is unending.
The Mother of Sighs
This final section of the ritual text deals with an entity referred to as the "Mother of Sighs". There is no additional context as to who or what it is, or even if this entity is real or simply a poetic creation. Any experimentation with the information here should perhaps be undertaken very cautiously.
She is a woman of middle-years, plump yet not fat. Her face is kind, but her eyes are bottomless wells that seem full of compassion but truthfully – truthfully they are full of grief. Her dress matters not, but it is always in gentle colours of the earth and the late autumnal leaves. Her hands are calloused. She leans upon a gnarled staff, or kneels in the earth tending to a garden or to simple crops. In truth, her garden is a cemetery and the soil is sour. Sometimes, she sings for the dead and her songs are heartbreaking.
She sighs for what is gone, and for the inevitable decline that attends all things. Her voice is always quiet, never raised in anger – she is disappointed by disrespect, not wrathful. She talks quietly of what is lost, of the pain and sorrow of life, of the rest and succour that lies beyond life. Let none speak to her for too long, for the preternatural sadness she brings makes the idea of self destruction seem appealing and will lead to tragedy.
Tragedy, all ends, all comes to tears, in sighs, in darkness. Life is exhaustion, and struggle. Better to give in, she says in her quiet, gentle voice. Better to pass into darkness with dignity than to struggle and bellow against the night – because in the end it will still claim you. She is the mother of the weeping woman, and the daughter of the night hag.
Her signs are sighs, quiet voices, dust, cold ash once a fire has burnt out, dry earth, her staff, things gone to rust, grave markers, and dirges for the dead.
Evoke her name with rituals that kill, provided they do so gently. There is no wrath in the Mother of Sighs; let no violence be done in her name lest she depart and another arrive, for she is lover to the Fury. Her breath brings slow decline, crumbling, rusting, failing, weakness, senility. Breathe on the walls of the citadel and the wind will ruin it within a week.
Send her forth in her terrible, gentle strength to take the life from an entire land and wither all the seed thereon. Evoke her with her sister-daughter and her sister-mother to stand watch over the Black Gate. Call on her to still the broken heart, and open the door to peace.