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Celestine · (08-20-2025)

“You passed the test in Sturgis.” The whisper surrounded Celestine like a blanket. It wasn’t in her mind like a voice in someone’s head. Each word came from a different area behind her. The voice was a thing, independent of her psyche. She’d already found this out the night she made the deal with Maraeth to gain her liberation from the painting she’d mistakenly sealed herself in for nearly 200 years.

“Verily, that was not me.” Celestine countered as she spun around, but saw nothing. Celestine scanned her room deep inside the Vale, a room vast and filled with decor from her time period.

“Oh, but it was you.” The whisper moved, always staying behind her despite the woman’s best effort to catch sight of it. “You were guided by my hand.” The Whisper from the Black Star added, shoring goosebumps and raising hair upon Celestine.

She stammered in reply, “I, no, you, no, we dropped a steel chariot upon that man. For what? To what esteem shall I raise myself? It was lunacy! Lunacy, I tell you!”

“It was anarchy,” the voice replied with correction, the pun not lost on the whisper. “You did as you were supposed to. The Black Rainbow withdrew their aid from you for the test as I commanded them to, and I did as I pleased with your vessel.”

Celestine’s stomach knotted. “And a man could’ve lost his life because of it, you babbling fool-born coxcomb. You possessed me like some kind of devil!” Her body shook, more knots in her tummy.

“Mmmhmmm, why, yes, Celestine. That was the deal, remember?” The whisper mocked. She could not protest, for it was true. Damn it!

“Why this? This savage theatre of…of… wrestling.” She asked, contempt on the tongue.

“Do you not remember when I unmade you? Dear child, do not test me. We’ve been through this. You’ve been through a lot; therefore, I shall recount the reasons again, yet this will be the last. Ask again and you shall be punished. This grand theater of wrestling, especially XWF, provides me the greatest reach to deploy my plans through violent in-ring action, subliminal messaging in promos, to expand my network and influence, and to recruit those who shall carry my message. XWF is the pinnacle of wrestling. Tens of millions watch their programming. The perfect platform to expand from.”

“Aurora,” Celestine said with a sad nod. The most recent recruit. A lot of women will be swayed by her reasons for joining.

“Yes, and more to come.” The voice foretold. “But that is not for you to indulge in. You will endure he who mocks your era, Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing, as you have already been instructed.”

Celestine’s lips dipped, corners arrowed down. “He’s an unwell gentleman.” She saw his in-ring work and vignettes on the magical box with moving images that she still can’t fully wrap her head around. “What cruelty has lent his friends to curry his will for this? Why has wisdom fled from him like feet from fright? Why must Lord Jimmy of House Stars summon this man to your feast of macabre?”

The whisper chuckled, a mocking chortle that did little to ease her raised hairs and goosebumps. “Poor child, you have a lot to learn. Sir Pennyfarthing is being sent to YOU to display what happens when a foolish jester clad in Shakespearean attire meets the genuine article. It’s manifested destiny. A punishment for his lifelong work of mocking your culture, of his continued ridicule of wrestling, which he thinks is fake like the plays he failed in.”

Heat blooms through her modest bosoms. “And you’re going to use me to accost that man, to torture that man whose mind has betrayed him. This is no more barbarous than maiming a man with no arms or legs. I see why you shelter in shadows and won’t reveal your true form.”

That Which Shall Not Be Named growled at her for the remark. The goosebumps and raised hairs had subsided, replaced by a growing heat in her chest and face.

“Your Inquisitor would have killed you without a thought. So too will Sir Lionel if he had the ability.”

As the whisper spoke, Celestine moved about the room, or rather, a certain area of it. “Surely you did not pull me from my prison to ceaselessly possess me for this morbid theater of ring and rope, to stand me atop the steel trees that hold it together. There are plenty of vessels to harvest aside from a trapped woman in a painting.”

“Of course my plans for you extend beyond that theatre. You have a spark in you, something that transcends the natural. Normally, I have to bestow such blessings in my vessels, yet not with you. That glow of the supernatural you have caught my notice long before you realize. You could never hear my voice until my vessel, Maraeth, unbound you from your trappings. Your ability to bring art to life will serve me well on the world stage at the time appointed and will serve the Black Rainbow tremendously in their XWF efforts.”

Celestine had reached the area of the room she wanted. “Verily.” It was all she said before suddenly grabbing the paint well from her artist supplies and hurling it as she spun 360 degrees. The paint slung out in a huge wave encompassing the full 360-degree rotation, and as she’d hoped for, some of it splashed on the form of the voice. It was fleeting, but she saw a portion of the entity. Yellow eyes. A shadowy maw.

“You’ll pay for that.” It bellowed, and pay she did. Her body locked against her will, her captivating blue eyes stretched to the limit. The Whisper from the Black Star jerked her frame against the painting canvas, and from there, it made her watch herself paint a horrific depiction of what it would use her to do to Pennyfarthing, terrifying her.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Celestine vs Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing
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