Qarinah watched Khei with a gaze that bordered on the patronizing, her eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and appraisal. As Khei’s fingers lingered on the bundle, the sorceress’s lips curled into a subtle, knowing smile.
“It was my pleasure." She said, her voice a blend of warmth and playful mockery. “Your accent is uniquely captivating—so rich and peculiar. The way your ‘w’s’ soften into ‘v’s and how you stress every other syllable lends your speech a charming edge.” She savored the moment, letting her gaze linger on Khei. “Not many people speak with such a distinct rhythm.”
The first rays of dawn began to paint the sky in soft hues of pink and gold, their light creeping across the forest floor. A stray beam of sunlight caught Qarinah’s cheek, leaving a deep scorch mark upon her skin before she drew back into the shadows, where the light could not touch her.
With a final, enigmatic smile, Qarinah began to retreat, her form blending seamlessly into the deepening shadows of the forest. “Enjoy your breakfast, dear,” she called over her shoulder, her voice drifting on the wind like a whisper. “And do try to keep your wits about you.” Her words lingered as she melded into the darkness, leaving Khei with the unsettling reminder of her enigmatic presence.
Reflections of Ruin [End]
Re: Reflections of Ruin
Khei watched as Qarinah melted into the shadows, the sorceress’s teasing words still echoing in her ears. Her grip on the bundle tightened again, her expression a mix of frustration and reluctant amusement. Qarinah’s parting words, though mocking, carried a weight that Khei couldn’t ignore.
“I’ll keep that in mind..” she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes as she turned her attention back to her surroundings. The eerie quiet of the island, the unfamiliar scents, and the strange energy in the air reminded her just how far she was from everything she knew.
She shook her head, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she considered Qarinah’s comment about her accent. It wasn’t the first time someone had remarked on it, but hearing it from someone like Qarinah, who was as infuriating as she was intriguing, left Khei feeling oddly self-conscious.
“Charming?” she murmured to herself, letting out a small, dry laugh.
With a deep breath, Khei glanced up at the sky, watching the two suns slowly rise higher, bathing the forest in a strange, almost surreal light. There was no point in dwelling on Qarinah’s cryptic farewell; she had more pressing concerns. Whatever had drawn her and Ul’duin to this island was still out there, and she wasn’t about to let it catch her off guard.
Khei found a fallen tree nearby, its trunk wide and sturdy enough to serve as a makeshift seat. She set the bundle down beside her, her fingers already working to untie the knot Qarinah had so carefully secured.
The scent of the food hit her first—rich, savory, and laced with the faintest hint of spices she couldn’t quite place. Khei’s stomach growled in response, a sharp reminder of just how long it had been since her last meal. She pulled out a portion of what looked like smoked meat, still warm and tender, and took a cautious bite. The flavor exploded on her tongue, far more refined than the rough, gamey fare she was used to scavenging in the wild.
She ate slowly, savoring each mouthful as she let her mind wander. Despite her irritation at the sudden change in location, she couldn’t help but appreciate the brief moment of peace. The food was a comfort, a small luxury she rarely allowed herself. As she finished the last of the meal, she felt a renewed sense of energy, the weariness from her earlier battle in the Lost Wastes ebbing away.
“Mhm, damn..” she mused, wiping her hands on a scrap of cloth before setting the now-empty wrappings aside.
Turning her attention to the clothes Qarinah had provided, Khei ran her fingers over the fabric. It was soft to the touch, durable yet light—ideal for the humid, coastal environment she found herself in. She couldn’t help but appreciate its craftsmanship. It was a stark contrast to the tattered rags she had been wearing, garments that barely held together after her most recent transformation.
“New clothes, too? And they're cute?” she muttered with a chuckle, peeling off the remnants of her old clothes.
As she dressed, she noticed how the new outfit fit her perfectly, as if Qarinah had known her exact measurements. The outfit was practical, designed for movement. It hugged her frame in all the right places, providing support where she needed it most. The pants were made of a tough, breathable material that allowed her legs to move freely, and the top was sleeveless, exposing her arms and allowing full range of motion. A thin but sturdy cloak accompanied the ensemble, its fabric capable of shielding her from the sun and the occasional chill of the ocean breeze.
Khei took a moment to adjust the cloak around her shoulders, pulling up the hood to test its coverage. It cast her face in shadow, obscuring her features while still allowing her to keep an eye on her surroundings. Satisfied, she folded the remnants of her old clothes and buried them under a pile of leaves, a small ritual she had developed over time to mark the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.
“..maybe you're not so bad..” she said softly, though Qarinah was long gone. The words carried a hint of sincerity, despite her usual sarcasm.
Rising to her feet, Khei felt a sense of readiness settle over her. The uncertainty that had clouded her thoughts earlier began to dissipate, replaced by a calm determination.
As she inhaled deeply, letting the scents of the forest fill her lungs, she noticed something bulging from one of the many pockets along the cloak. A faint smile played on her lips as she inspected its shape, pulling out a dagger with a broad, curved blade—crafted from a metal she’d never seen before. It was heavy, though easy to handle for someone experienced in their use.
Khei tossed the weapon up and down as she adjusted to its weight, spinning it and flipping it with an effortless finesse that would suggest it was her weapon of choice, even though it wasn’t. “Not really my style, but you never know..” she said to herself as she slid the weapon back into the holster on her cloak.
With that, Khei began her journey, her footsteps silent as she moved through the forest, her senses attuned to every sound, every shift in the air. The suns continued to rise, casting the island in a golden glow as she ventured deeper into the unknown, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
“Ugh, here we go,” she murmured after an exasperated sigh, steeling herself for what was to come.
——---——— ——---———
Current Energy Level: 60%
——---——— ——---———
“I’ll keep that in mind..” she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes as she turned her attention back to her surroundings. The eerie quiet of the island, the unfamiliar scents, and the strange energy in the air reminded her just how far she was from everything she knew.
She shook her head, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she considered Qarinah’s comment about her accent. It wasn’t the first time someone had remarked on it, but hearing it from someone like Qarinah, who was as infuriating as she was intriguing, left Khei feeling oddly self-conscious.
“Charming?” she murmured to herself, letting out a small, dry laugh.
With a deep breath, Khei glanced up at the sky, watching the two suns slowly rise higher, bathing the forest in a strange, almost surreal light. There was no point in dwelling on Qarinah’s cryptic farewell; she had more pressing concerns. Whatever had drawn her and Ul’duin to this island was still out there, and she wasn’t about to let it catch her off guard.
Khei found a fallen tree nearby, its trunk wide and sturdy enough to serve as a makeshift seat. She set the bundle down beside her, her fingers already working to untie the knot Qarinah had so carefully secured.
The scent of the food hit her first—rich, savory, and laced with the faintest hint of spices she couldn’t quite place. Khei’s stomach growled in response, a sharp reminder of just how long it had been since her last meal. She pulled out a portion of what looked like smoked meat, still warm and tender, and took a cautious bite. The flavor exploded on her tongue, far more refined than the rough, gamey fare she was used to scavenging in the wild.
She ate slowly, savoring each mouthful as she let her mind wander. Despite her irritation at the sudden change in location, she couldn’t help but appreciate the brief moment of peace. The food was a comfort, a small luxury she rarely allowed herself. As she finished the last of the meal, she felt a renewed sense of energy, the weariness from her earlier battle in the Lost Wastes ebbing away.
“Mhm, damn..” she mused, wiping her hands on a scrap of cloth before setting the now-empty wrappings aside.
Turning her attention to the clothes Qarinah had provided, Khei ran her fingers over the fabric. It was soft to the touch, durable yet light—ideal for the humid, coastal environment she found herself in. She couldn’t help but appreciate its craftsmanship. It was a stark contrast to the tattered rags she had been wearing, garments that barely held together after her most recent transformation.
“New clothes, too? And they're cute?” she muttered with a chuckle, peeling off the remnants of her old clothes.
As she dressed, she noticed how the new outfit fit her perfectly, as if Qarinah had known her exact measurements. The outfit was practical, designed for movement. It hugged her frame in all the right places, providing support where she needed it most. The pants were made of a tough, breathable material that allowed her legs to move freely, and the top was sleeveless, exposing her arms and allowing full range of motion. A thin but sturdy cloak accompanied the ensemble, its fabric capable of shielding her from the sun and the occasional chill of the ocean breeze.
Khei took a moment to adjust the cloak around her shoulders, pulling up the hood to test its coverage. It cast her face in shadow, obscuring her features while still allowing her to keep an eye on her surroundings. Satisfied, she folded the remnants of her old clothes and buried them under a pile of leaves, a small ritual she had developed over time to mark the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.
“..maybe you're not so bad..” she said softly, though Qarinah was long gone. The words carried a hint of sincerity, despite her usual sarcasm.
Rising to her feet, Khei felt a sense of readiness settle over her. The uncertainty that had clouded her thoughts earlier began to dissipate, replaced by a calm determination.
As she inhaled deeply, letting the scents of the forest fill her lungs, she noticed something bulging from one of the many pockets along the cloak. A faint smile played on her lips as she inspected its shape, pulling out a dagger with a broad, curved blade—crafted from a metal she’d never seen before. It was heavy, though easy to handle for someone experienced in their use.
Khei tossed the weapon up and down as she adjusted to its weight, spinning it and flipping it with an effortless finesse that would suggest it was her weapon of choice, even though it wasn’t. “Not really my style, but you never know..” she said to herself as she slid the weapon back into the holster on her cloak.
With that, Khei began her journey, her footsteps silent as she moved through the forest, her senses attuned to every sound, every shift in the air. The suns continued to rise, casting the island in a golden glow as she ventured deeper into the unknown, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
“Ugh, here we go,” she murmured after an exasperated sigh, steeling herself for what was to come.
——---——— ——---———
Current Energy Level: 60%
——---——— ——---———
Re: Reflections of Ruin
The island of Al’ Nyr lay forgotten, cloaked in mystery and hidden from all maps. Enshrouded upon uncharted waters and guarded by layers of arcane wards, it was the chosen stronghold of The Pyre—a fanatical cult of powerful sorcerers united in their singular obsession.
Though small, the island radiated an intensity far surpassing its size. The air buzzed with volatile energy, the soil seethed with latent power, and the surrounding sea shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Al’ Nyr was no ordinary landmass; it was a living altar where the fabric of reality grew thin, stretching the boundary between the physical world and the Unseen to its breaking point.
The Pyre had not stumbled upon this place by accident. They had meticulously sought it out, believing that only here could they summon A’maroth— The Sunderer, into their realm. A’maroth, a sentient firestorm, existed as a shifting mass of impossibly bright, ever-changing flames. His form bleeding from a scorching white to an oily, molten black undulating inferno that defied the bounds of logic.
To know A’maroth was to confront a fear eternal—one that stripped away illusions of control and plunged all who encountered him into a mind-breaking inferno from which escape was impossible. Yet The Pyre believed themselves uniquely destined to harness this otherworldly power.
At the heart of the island stood the shrine: a jagged altar of obsidian, rough-hewn yet intricately etched with runes that pulsed with an eerie, dim light.
Surrounding the altar were braziers of gold and iron, their flames shifting through unnatural hues, casting eerie shadows that danced around the ancient runes.
Though small, the island radiated an intensity far surpassing its size. The air buzzed with volatile energy, the soil seethed with latent power, and the surrounding sea shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Al’ Nyr was no ordinary landmass; it was a living altar where the fabric of reality grew thin, stretching the boundary between the physical world and the Unseen to its breaking point.
The Pyre had not stumbled upon this place by accident. They had meticulously sought it out, believing that only here could they summon A’maroth— The Sunderer, into their realm. A’maroth, a sentient firestorm, existed as a shifting mass of impossibly bright, ever-changing flames. His form bleeding from a scorching white to an oily, molten black undulating inferno that defied the bounds of logic.
To know A’maroth was to confront a fear eternal—one that stripped away illusions of control and plunged all who encountered him into a mind-breaking inferno from which escape was impossible. Yet The Pyre believed themselves uniquely destined to harness this otherworldly power.
At the heart of the island stood the shrine: a jagged altar of obsidian, rough-hewn yet intricately etched with runes that pulsed with an eerie, dim light.
Surrounding the altar were braziers of gold and iron, their flames shifting through unnatural hues, casting eerie shadows that danced around the ancient runes.
Re: Reflections of Ruin
As Khei moved through the dense forest of Al' Nyr, the humid air clung to her skin, the weight of the island’s oppressive atmosphere thickening with each step. The sounds of the jungle were unnervingly muted, as though the very wildlife could sense the unnatural forces swirling beneath the surface of the planet.
She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, her eyes sharp, scanning the twisted path ahead. Despite the unnerving quiet, Khei kept her pace steady, her senses alert to any shifts in the unnatural environment. The strange, pulsing energy of the island was undeniable. But een as the shadows flickered in her peripheral vision, playing tricks with her mind, she knew better than to trust them.
”..yep, definitely not spooky at all." she muttered under her breath, her voice barely breaking the silence as she pushed aside another tangle of vines. "Bet the locals are real friendly."
Khei’s wry humor masked her growing unease. There was something deeply wrong about this place—and she could literally see it with her eyes.
The trail of energy had returned and the deeper she ventured after it, the hotter the air became. But the heat wasn’t just in the air; it clouded her mind, twisting her thoughts and her perception of the landscape..
She paused for a moment, her breath steady, focusing her mind. Whatever this was, it wasn’t the first time she had faced something beyond human understanding. She felt this within the Lost Wastes– the pull of madness at the edges of her thoughts, trying to worm its way in.
As she neared the island’s center, the jungle began to thin out, giving way to jagged stones and patches of dry, cracked earth. The heat intensified, warping the air in shimmering waves. A faint glow caught her eye, flickering through the dense foliage ahead. She crouched low behind a craggy outcropping, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene before her.
There, in the heart of the island, stood the Pyre's Shrine—an obsidian altar, engraved with ancient runes that pulsed with an eerie glow. The heat was unbearable now, radiating from the monument in waves that distorted the air like a mirage.
“Of course,” Khei muttered, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Wouldn’t be a cult without the creepy altar.”
Her hand instinctively moved to the dagger she had tucked into her cloak earlier, though she knew it wouldn’t be of much use here. This was something far beyond the reach of any weapon.
A dozen cultists moved in eerie synchronization around the altar, their iridescent robes billowing in the heat, their haunting masks hiding their faces. Their chants filled the air and seemed to feed the energy swirling around the shrine. Every word they spoke was like a ripple through the fabric of reality, deepening the sense of dread that permeated the clearing.
——---——— ——---———
Current Energy Level: 65%
——---——— ——---———
She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, her eyes sharp, scanning the twisted path ahead. Despite the unnerving quiet, Khei kept her pace steady, her senses alert to any shifts in the unnatural environment. The strange, pulsing energy of the island was undeniable. But een as the shadows flickered in her peripheral vision, playing tricks with her mind, she knew better than to trust them.
”..yep, definitely not spooky at all." she muttered under her breath, her voice barely breaking the silence as she pushed aside another tangle of vines. "Bet the locals are real friendly."
Khei’s wry humor masked her growing unease. There was something deeply wrong about this place—and she could literally see it with her eyes.
The trail of energy had returned and the deeper she ventured after it, the hotter the air became. But the heat wasn’t just in the air; it clouded her mind, twisting her thoughts and her perception of the landscape..
She paused for a moment, her breath steady, focusing her mind. Whatever this was, it wasn’t the first time she had faced something beyond human understanding. She felt this within the Lost Wastes– the pull of madness at the edges of her thoughts, trying to worm its way in.
As she neared the island’s center, the jungle began to thin out, giving way to jagged stones and patches of dry, cracked earth. The heat intensified, warping the air in shimmering waves. A faint glow caught her eye, flickering through the dense foliage ahead. She crouched low behind a craggy outcropping, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene before her.
There, in the heart of the island, stood the Pyre's Shrine—an obsidian altar, engraved with ancient runes that pulsed with an eerie glow. The heat was unbearable now, radiating from the monument in waves that distorted the air like a mirage.
“Of course,” Khei muttered, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Wouldn’t be a cult without the creepy altar.”
Her hand instinctively moved to the dagger she had tucked into her cloak earlier, though she knew it wouldn’t be of much use here. This was something far beyond the reach of any weapon.
A dozen cultists moved in eerie synchronization around the altar, their iridescent robes billowing in the heat, their haunting masks hiding their faces. Their chants filled the air and seemed to feed the energy swirling around the shrine. Every word they spoke was like a ripple through the fabric of reality, deepening the sense of dread that permeated the clearing.
——---——— ——---———
Current Energy Level: 65%
——---——— ——---———
Re: Reflections of Ruin
The leader of the Pyre stepped forward, draped in black and crimson robes, his face hidden beneath a golden mask that gleamed ominously in the firelight. His presence commanded silence from the gathered masses as he raised his hands to the sky, his voice swelling with fervor that shook the air itself.
"It is time, sisters and brothers. The Solstice of the Kaus Borealis is upon us, and the boundaries that separate the corporeal realm from the Unseen are thinner than air."
A low murmur began to rise among the cultists, their chanting growing louder, a guttural, rhythmic hum that melded with the crackling of the ritual fires. Their voices, at first disparate and distant, soon merged into a hypnotic drone that pulsed through the clearing like a living entity. One of the cultists stepped forward from the sea of swaying crimson robes, his form trembling beneath the weight of the moment.
He wore the ceremonial garb like the others, his face concealed behind a mask adorned with intricate symbols of fire and sacrifice, but there was no mistaking the fear in his movement. The Leader’s gaze locked on him, piercing through the slits of his mask.
"Step forward, M’ilaas. The flame has spoken, and it has chosen you—as it chooses all who are truly worthy. Yours shall become the flesh that binds—the tether that anchors the Sunderer to this realm.. Do you accept this?”
M'ilaas swallowed hard, his throat dry as these arid winds. His eyes, wide behind his mask, darted briefly toward the chanting crowd, his fellow devout, seeking comfort in their unwavering faith. He found none. Their faces remained hidden, cold, and unmoved.
"I... I accept. I am the vessel. For the Pyre… for A’maroth," he whispered, his voice catching on the last words. “There is… no greater honor.”
The cultists' chanting surged louder, their collective voices melding into a single, reverent hymn, a cacophony of worship and terror that filled the air with a palpable weight.
"We offer this vessel to The All-Consuming Storm, to He-Who-Cinders. Let this soul be the flint that sparks your eternal flame!"
"Let your will be done, oh Sunderer. Take him, as we take your flame within us. His bone, his soul—all of him, fodder for your fire."
The air itself seemed to grow denser, thickening with the weight of ancient, unseen forces. The very fabric of reality seemed to tremble, bending under the pressure of the incantations.
M'ilaas hesitated as he took his first unsteady step toward the obsidian altar. His legs shook uncontrollably, each movement a fight against the instinct to flee. The flames from the braziers, burning with an unnatural hunger, licked hungrily at the edges of the shrine, casting an eerie, distorted glow across the clearing. The heat radiating from them was unbearable, searing his skin even through the enchanted robes that shielded him.
His breath came in shallow gasps, and his pulse throbbed painfully in his ears as he stepped closer, every fiber of his being screaming to turn back. But his will—his faith—was stronger. This was his duty. His destiny.
"You will be remembered, M'ilaas," the Cult Leader intoned, his voice reverberating through the air like a divine decree. "Your name immortalized, spoken in reverence with every flicker of the impending inferno. Now go—step into the center of the altar and let the flames be your salvation. Feel it as it melts away your mortal coil as you become one with divine otherness."
M'ilaas halted again, his foot hovering just above the molten obsidian. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, his voice cracked and twisted with terror.
"I… I do this… f-for A'maroth… for the Pyre… for—"
"Enough, child! Do not stall the hands of fate!" the Cult Leader’s voice cut through M'ilaas' hesitation like a blade. "You are the chosen! Your will, the ember of a new age! You mustn't falter now. Step forth, and embrace immortality!"
Doubt, thick as the heat from the flames, seeped through the seams of M'ilaas’ robe. He cast a final, tear-filled glance over his shoulder, a silent plea hidden behind the slits of his mask. But no mercy awaited him. His fellow cultists looked on with fervor, their faces devoid of sympathy, their faith as unwavering as the rising flames.
M'ilaas closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and forced himself forward. His foot touched the shimmering, obsidian surface of the altar, and the flames responded instantly. They erupted from beneath him, twisting and coiling around his body like hungry serpents. His anguish pierced the night, a sound so raw, so filled with agony, that it echoed through the clearing, far beyond where Khei Noh lay hidden in the shadows.
The fire consumed him, searing flesh from bone in an instant, reducing him to cinders. The very air seemed to ripple in pain, as if reality itself recoiled from the violence of the sacrifice.
But the chanting only grew louder.
"A'maroth! A'maroth! A'maroth!"
The flames coiled upward, rising higher and higher, until they formed a towering column of fire that blazed with a light so bright it scorched the sky. Clouds evaporated for miles around, leaving only a darkened, starless void above. Within the inferno, a silhouette began to writhe—an impossible figure, taking form in the molten chaos.
The cultists fell to their knees, arms outstretched in blind reverence as the flames twisted and curled, coalescing into a single, looming entity. A humanoid figure with two pronged horns emerged from the inferno, its form monstrous, draped in shadows and burning embers. Eyes, dozens of them, opened across its body, each one glowing with a sinister, otherworldly light. A halo of embers hovered above its head, radiating a malevolent aura that warped the very air around it.
"He is here!! The Sunderer has returned!! Behold and be faithful!! For he anoint us as his coveted flock!"
The leader rejoiced, but even as he shouted, his body shuddered beneath the power of the Exalted One. The Altar, designed to withstand this celestial pressure, began to liquefy at A'morath's feet. The Sunderer was nearly twenty feet tall, and grew larger as its flames consumed whatever it touched. The leader took a few steps back in fear, witnessing as his enchanted garments flitter to ash before his very eyes.. And soon, the rest of him followed.
———
Reality began to unravel throughout the entire clearing, even as far as where Khei was hiding.
"Oh this just keeps getting better." She said, crouched from behind a jagged boulder, where she was able to witness the entire ordeal transpire. She could hear nearly every word the cultists exchanged, and could infer that they sought to summon the creature that Khei was hunting.. And whether or not they managed to successfully channel A'morath's power, her plan was to simply wait out the ceremony and kill whatever walked off of that altar. But from what she could tell through her burning eyes, A'morath was more than some minor demon.
As his body grew larger– devouring the soil, the air, and anything else than came in contact with its sifting black body, the hotter his flames grew. Khei watched in a grim fascination as the cultists each began to flee in terror as their bodies were vaporized by a breeze wafting from A'morath's form. Enchantments be damned, there were no remains that didn't flutter away in the wind. Khei could hear their pleas for mercy, but the god they worshipped didn't care about clemency. It knew nothing of their loyalty and was equally ignorant to their suffering.. but even if it knew, it wouldn't matter. A'morath's very presence defied their basic qualities of life.
Khei gritted her teeth, still huddled behind a boulder that was also beginning to deteriorate as the seconds ticked by. But despite Ul'duin's primal urge to fight roaring in her ear, Khei.. was kinda scared.
"How the hell am I supposed to fight that thing?"
The thought haunted her as she tried to stabilize her breathing. The clothing Qarinah had gifted her alleviated majority of the unbearable pressure, but A'morath's body was literally devouring the air. Khei had pitted Ul'duin against plenty of self proclaimed demons and magical beings, but this was something else. She never claimed to know her transformations capabilities– Ul'duin was older than anything she'd even known about, and even managed to garner the attention of some powerful sorcerers. Still, she didn't know how he was going to "punch" a sentient firestorm. A'morath's limbs were columns of blistering death and his core a nest of fire and glaring eyeballs. And he was only getting larger.
"..."
Doubt gnawed at her thoughts, more now than Khei could ever remember in her short, chaotic life. Still, she couldn't just sit here.. even if she wanted to. Ul'duin's hunger was beginning to drown out every thought and feeling she had. It always began with an incessant ringing in her ears , one so defeaening it chattered her teeth. Khei couldn't keep from smirking, despite the magnitude of her situation.
"Guess that part's not my problem, huh? I'll just let you figure it out."
——---——— ——---———
Current Energy Level: 70%
——---——— ——---———
"It is time, sisters and brothers. The Solstice of the Kaus Borealis is upon us, and the boundaries that separate the corporeal realm from the Unseen are thinner than air."
A low murmur began to rise among the cultists, their chanting growing louder, a guttural, rhythmic hum that melded with the crackling of the ritual fires. Their voices, at first disparate and distant, soon merged into a hypnotic drone that pulsed through the clearing like a living entity. One of the cultists stepped forward from the sea of swaying crimson robes, his form trembling beneath the weight of the moment.
He wore the ceremonial garb like the others, his face concealed behind a mask adorned with intricate symbols of fire and sacrifice, but there was no mistaking the fear in his movement. The Leader’s gaze locked on him, piercing through the slits of his mask.
"Step forward, M’ilaas. The flame has spoken, and it has chosen you—as it chooses all who are truly worthy. Yours shall become the flesh that binds—the tether that anchors the Sunderer to this realm.. Do you accept this?”
M'ilaas swallowed hard, his throat dry as these arid winds. His eyes, wide behind his mask, darted briefly toward the chanting crowd, his fellow devout, seeking comfort in their unwavering faith. He found none. Their faces remained hidden, cold, and unmoved.
"I... I accept. I am the vessel. For the Pyre… for A’maroth," he whispered, his voice catching on the last words. “There is… no greater honor.”
The cultists' chanting surged louder, their collective voices melding into a single, reverent hymn, a cacophony of worship and terror that filled the air with a palpable weight.
"We offer this vessel to The All-Consuming Storm, to He-Who-Cinders. Let this soul be the flint that sparks your eternal flame!"
"Let your will be done, oh Sunderer. Take him, as we take your flame within us. His bone, his soul—all of him, fodder for your fire."
The air itself seemed to grow denser, thickening with the weight of ancient, unseen forces. The very fabric of reality seemed to tremble, bending under the pressure of the incantations.
M'ilaas hesitated as he took his first unsteady step toward the obsidian altar. His legs shook uncontrollably, each movement a fight against the instinct to flee. The flames from the braziers, burning with an unnatural hunger, licked hungrily at the edges of the shrine, casting an eerie, distorted glow across the clearing. The heat radiating from them was unbearable, searing his skin even through the enchanted robes that shielded him.
His breath came in shallow gasps, and his pulse throbbed painfully in his ears as he stepped closer, every fiber of his being screaming to turn back. But his will—his faith—was stronger. This was his duty. His destiny.
"You will be remembered, M'ilaas," the Cult Leader intoned, his voice reverberating through the air like a divine decree. "Your name immortalized, spoken in reverence with every flicker of the impending inferno. Now go—step into the center of the altar and let the flames be your salvation. Feel it as it melts away your mortal coil as you become one with divine otherness."
M'ilaas halted again, his foot hovering just above the molten obsidian. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, his voice cracked and twisted with terror.
"I… I do this… f-for A'maroth… for the Pyre… for—"
"Enough, child! Do not stall the hands of fate!" the Cult Leader’s voice cut through M'ilaas' hesitation like a blade. "You are the chosen! Your will, the ember of a new age! You mustn't falter now. Step forth, and embrace immortality!"
Doubt, thick as the heat from the flames, seeped through the seams of M'ilaas’ robe. He cast a final, tear-filled glance over his shoulder, a silent plea hidden behind the slits of his mask. But no mercy awaited him. His fellow cultists looked on with fervor, their faces devoid of sympathy, their faith as unwavering as the rising flames.
M'ilaas closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and forced himself forward. His foot touched the shimmering, obsidian surface of the altar, and the flames responded instantly. They erupted from beneath him, twisting and coiling around his body like hungry serpents. His anguish pierced the night, a sound so raw, so filled with agony, that it echoed through the clearing, far beyond where Khei Noh lay hidden in the shadows.
The fire consumed him, searing flesh from bone in an instant, reducing him to cinders. The very air seemed to ripple in pain, as if reality itself recoiled from the violence of the sacrifice.
But the chanting only grew louder.
"A'maroth! A'maroth! A'maroth!"
The flames coiled upward, rising higher and higher, until they formed a towering column of fire that blazed with a light so bright it scorched the sky. Clouds evaporated for miles around, leaving only a darkened, starless void above. Within the inferno, a silhouette began to writhe—an impossible figure, taking form in the molten chaos.
The cultists fell to their knees, arms outstretched in blind reverence as the flames twisted and curled, coalescing into a single, looming entity. A humanoid figure with two pronged horns emerged from the inferno, its form monstrous, draped in shadows and burning embers. Eyes, dozens of them, opened across its body, each one glowing with a sinister, otherworldly light. A halo of embers hovered above its head, radiating a malevolent aura that warped the very air around it.
"He is here!! The Sunderer has returned!! Behold and be faithful!! For he anoint us as his coveted flock!"
The leader rejoiced, but even as he shouted, his body shuddered beneath the power of the Exalted One. The Altar, designed to withstand this celestial pressure, began to liquefy at A'morath's feet. The Sunderer was nearly twenty feet tall, and grew larger as its flames consumed whatever it touched. The leader took a few steps back in fear, witnessing as his enchanted garments flitter to ash before his very eyes.. And soon, the rest of him followed.
———
Reality began to unravel throughout the entire clearing, even as far as where Khei was hiding.
"Oh this just keeps getting better." She said, crouched from behind a jagged boulder, where she was able to witness the entire ordeal transpire. She could hear nearly every word the cultists exchanged, and could infer that they sought to summon the creature that Khei was hunting.. And whether or not they managed to successfully channel A'morath's power, her plan was to simply wait out the ceremony and kill whatever walked off of that altar. But from what she could tell through her burning eyes, A'morath was more than some minor demon.
As his body grew larger– devouring the soil, the air, and anything else than came in contact with its sifting black body, the hotter his flames grew. Khei watched in a grim fascination as the cultists each began to flee in terror as their bodies were vaporized by a breeze wafting from A'morath's form. Enchantments be damned, there were no remains that didn't flutter away in the wind. Khei could hear their pleas for mercy, but the god they worshipped didn't care about clemency. It knew nothing of their loyalty and was equally ignorant to their suffering.. but even if it knew, it wouldn't matter. A'morath's very presence defied their basic qualities of life.
Khei gritted her teeth, still huddled behind a boulder that was also beginning to deteriorate as the seconds ticked by. But despite Ul'duin's primal urge to fight roaring in her ear, Khei.. was kinda scared.
"How the hell am I supposed to fight that thing?"
The thought haunted her as she tried to stabilize her breathing. The clothing Qarinah had gifted her alleviated majority of the unbearable pressure, but A'morath's body was literally devouring the air. Khei had pitted Ul'duin against plenty of self proclaimed demons and magical beings, but this was something else. She never claimed to know her transformations capabilities– Ul'duin was older than anything she'd even known about, and even managed to garner the attention of some powerful sorcerers. Still, she didn't know how he was going to "punch" a sentient firestorm. A'morath's limbs were columns of blistering death and his core a nest of fire and glaring eyeballs. And he was only getting larger.
"..."
Doubt gnawed at her thoughts, more now than Khei could ever remember in her short, chaotic life. Still, she couldn't just sit here.. even if she wanted to. Ul'duin's hunger was beginning to drown out every thought and feeling she had. It always began with an incessant ringing in her ears , one so defeaening it chattered her teeth. Khei couldn't keep from smirking, despite the magnitude of her situation.
"Guess that part's not my problem, huh? I'll just let you figure it out."
——---——— ——---———
Current Energy Level: 70%
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Re: Reflections of Ruin
With a slow, calming breath, Khei rose to her feet, fixing her gaze on the towering colossus of ebon flames. Every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass, but her resolve was unwavering. She emptied her pockets, casting aside anything of value, and stepped out from behind the charred boulder.
The heat hit her like a freight train.
The first wave of blistering air slammed into her, driving her to her knees. The shock was instant, as if her lungs had been scorched from the inside out. She gasped, desperately trying to gather herself, her mind spinning, body wracked with searing pain. Still, she pressed forward, gritting her teeth as the storm of heat and ash battered her. Each step forward was a battle won.
Her clothes were already singed, the edges curling and blackening before she’d even moved ten yards. The second wave of heat was twice as ferocious, blistering her sandstone skin into a crimson web of third degree burns. Her legs faltered. The pain—raw, unrelenting—was too much. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her hand shot to her chest, nails digging into her scorched flesh as she collapse– a primal, guttural howl bursting from her lips.
Her scream was soon drowned out by the grotesque sounds of her bones twisting and realigning beneath her skin. Her once warm beige complexion gave way to a bulging, pale shell of muscle. Blackened talons ripped through her fingertips, sharp and deadly, while her face distorted into a horrific maw lined with serrated fangs. The transformation was brutal, swift, visceral.
And then, Ul’duin stood in her place.
Hulking, terrifying, with eyes like pools of blood. His enormous chest heaved as he inhaled deeply, exhaling a cloud of molten fumes that shimmered in the superheated air. The ground beneath him cracked from the sheer weight of his presence.
Across the battlefield, A’maroth stirred. The Sunderer’s fiery form shifted, its many eyes blinking in unison, locking onto Ul’duin. It recognized the threat immediately. As Qarinah had warned, Ul’duin was not just another Primordial—he was feared, even by these titans of destruction.
A’maroth’s roar shook the heavens, an alien sound of fury and terror. Without hesitation, it lashed out, its fiery arm elongating into a whip of molten black fire that tore through the sky with a crack that echoed for miles. The whip came down with the weight of a mountain, smashing Ul'duin into Vescrutia's crust and burying him in a molten trench.
A storm of ash and debris erupted, but Ul’duin rose from the rubble, black flames licking at his pale, muscular shell. His wounds healed almost instantly, the charred flesh regenerating at an unnatural pace.. and his crimson eyes burned brighter, now locked on his foe with deadly intent.
The battlefield fell into a tense, deafening silence. Ul’duin’s claws flexed, the air around him buzzing with raw, untamed power. But A’maroth was far from finished. The Sunderer’s molten form contorted, gathering flames into its "palm" until they amassed into a raging inferno. With a roar, it hurled the blazing vortex toward Ul’duin, the ground splitting beneath its devastating power.
But Ul’duin didn’t falter. He charged headlong, plowing through the fiery onslaught, his massive frame pushing against the storm of flames as if they were nothing but wind. His ivory hide blackened, but the pain only drove him further. His vascular legs shoveled into the ground before catapulting him with terrifying speed, closing the distance between him and A’maroth in a heartbeat.
Ul’duin’s talons struck with savage fury, raking through A’maroth’s smoldering body with the force of a bullet train. The sound of sizzling flesh filled the air, but A’maroth’s form flickered like a mirage, allowing his hulking foe to pass through him as if he were a ghost. Ul’duin landed heavily, frustration boiling within him as he primed his legs for another attack.
But A’maroth was faster this time. The Sunderer’s body sprouted a dozen tendrils of tar colored flames, each the size of an oak, moving with bewildering speeds. They lashed at Ul’duin from every angle, suffocating him with volcanic force. He roared in fury, his massive form struggling against the onslaught as the tendrils drove him further and further into the planets crust.
Ul’duin was lashed a hundred times over by the blazing appendages, his regenerating hide barely able to keep pace with the relentless barrage.
But even beneath the weight of The Sunderer's fury, Ul’duin’s eyes burned brighter.
——---——— ——---———
Current Energy Level: 55%
——---——— ——---———
The heat hit her like a freight train.
The first wave of blistering air slammed into her, driving her to her knees. The shock was instant, as if her lungs had been scorched from the inside out. She gasped, desperately trying to gather herself, her mind spinning, body wracked with searing pain. Still, she pressed forward, gritting her teeth as the storm of heat and ash battered her. Each step forward was a battle won.
Her clothes were already singed, the edges curling and blackening before she’d even moved ten yards. The second wave of heat was twice as ferocious, blistering her sandstone skin into a crimson web of third degree burns. Her legs faltered. The pain—raw, unrelenting—was too much. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her hand shot to her chest, nails digging into her scorched flesh as she collapse– a primal, guttural howl bursting from her lips.
Her scream was soon drowned out by the grotesque sounds of her bones twisting and realigning beneath her skin. Her once warm beige complexion gave way to a bulging, pale shell of muscle. Blackened talons ripped through her fingertips, sharp and deadly, while her face distorted into a horrific maw lined with serrated fangs. The transformation was brutal, swift, visceral.
And then, Ul’duin stood in her place.
Hulking, terrifying, with eyes like pools of blood. His enormous chest heaved as he inhaled deeply, exhaling a cloud of molten fumes that shimmered in the superheated air. The ground beneath him cracked from the sheer weight of his presence.
Across the battlefield, A’maroth stirred. The Sunderer’s fiery form shifted, its many eyes blinking in unison, locking onto Ul’duin. It recognized the threat immediately. As Qarinah had warned, Ul’duin was not just another Primordial—he was feared, even by these titans of destruction.
A’maroth’s roar shook the heavens, an alien sound of fury and terror. Without hesitation, it lashed out, its fiery arm elongating into a whip of molten black fire that tore through the sky with a crack that echoed for miles. The whip came down with the weight of a mountain, smashing Ul'duin into Vescrutia's crust and burying him in a molten trench.
A storm of ash and debris erupted, but Ul’duin rose from the rubble, black flames licking at his pale, muscular shell. His wounds healed almost instantly, the charred flesh regenerating at an unnatural pace.. and his crimson eyes burned brighter, now locked on his foe with deadly intent.
The battlefield fell into a tense, deafening silence. Ul’duin’s claws flexed, the air around him buzzing with raw, untamed power. But A’maroth was far from finished. The Sunderer’s molten form contorted, gathering flames into its "palm" until they amassed into a raging inferno. With a roar, it hurled the blazing vortex toward Ul’duin, the ground splitting beneath its devastating power.
But Ul’duin didn’t falter. He charged headlong, plowing through the fiery onslaught, his massive frame pushing against the storm of flames as if they were nothing but wind. His ivory hide blackened, but the pain only drove him further. His vascular legs shoveled into the ground before catapulting him with terrifying speed, closing the distance between him and A’maroth in a heartbeat.
Ul’duin’s talons struck with savage fury, raking through A’maroth’s smoldering body with the force of a bullet train. The sound of sizzling flesh filled the air, but A’maroth’s form flickered like a mirage, allowing his hulking foe to pass through him as if he were a ghost. Ul’duin landed heavily, frustration boiling within him as he primed his legs for another attack.
But A’maroth was faster this time. The Sunderer’s body sprouted a dozen tendrils of tar colored flames, each the size of an oak, moving with bewildering speeds. They lashed at Ul’duin from every angle, suffocating him with volcanic force. He roared in fury, his massive form struggling against the onslaught as the tendrils drove him further and further into the planets crust.
Ul’duin was lashed a hundred times over by the blazing appendages, his regenerating hide barely able to keep pace with the relentless barrage.
But even beneath the weight of The Sunderer's fury, Ul’duin’s eyes burned brighter.
——---——— ——---———
Current Energy Level: 55%
——---——— ——---———
Re: Reflections of Ruin
The ground shook violently as A’maroth unleashed his volcanic fury. Each impact shattered the blackened earth beneath, causing it to crack and splinter like broken glass.
For a moment, it seemed as though Ul'duin had been utterly overwhelmed. His massive form disappeared beneath the cascade of searing magma and superheated energy. Soon, the chaos behind The Sunderer’s relentless assault abated, replaced by the hiss of cooling lava and the occasional rumble of shifting earth.
A’maroth’s fiery form swirled above the devastation triumphantly, feeding on the destruction below and propagating its sentient inferno. But beneath the molten barrage, something stirred.
Then, Ul'duin suddenly erupted from beneath the smoldering rubble – his body again, repairing the scorching wounds at a significant rate. He stood tall once more, molten rock dripping from his talons.. but there was a notable shift in his stance. An unnerving focus behind his crimson leer. Though not entirely devoid of rage, it harbored a new calculated edge as it locked onto the cosmic storm swirling above.
A’maroth, observing its foe rise from the ashes, surged forward again– flinging another wave of fiery tendrils toward Ul'duin, intending to incinerate him once and for all. But this time, Ul'duin didn’t try to dodge or block. Instead, his claws retracted and his monstrous jaw ominously yawned open.
As the fiery tendrils lashed out, they were drawn irresistibly into Ul'duin’s gaping maw, as though it became a bottomless void.
The Sunderer let out a cacophonous roar as the energy of its flames was dragged from its body. It twisted and writhed in futile resistance; The All-Consuming Storm was now shrinking, struggling, and unable to escape this unstoppable vortex.
A'morath's otherworldly wails faded within Ul'duin’s voracious maw. The battlefield fell silent soon after, save for the faint crackling of dissipating flames and the heavy, labored breaths of the victor.
His hulking form pulsed with new, dark power– his monstrous body now blazing with blackened embers. But soon, something within him began to shift and contort as his body adjusted to a new level of power far beyond what it had before.
But as the energy continued to pulse through him, the flames licking against him began to flicker until they grew unstable. In moments, Ul'duin's colossal form began to collapse inward, shrinking rapidly. His growls turned into ragged, human breaths as its body shifted– the black flames extinguishing soon after..
In his place, Khei Noh collapsed to her knees, gasping for air. Her body trembled, her skin still warm from the remnants of her chaotic battle. Her clothes were scorched, her skin still slightly blistered in places, but she was alive.
Barely.
Khei Noh’s body ached as she struggled to stay upright, her breaths shallow and labored. She felt as though she had been hollowed out, drained by the intensity of another battle that she couldn't remember.
She chuckled weakly, her voice a rasp: “..well, that wasn't so hard..”
Her vision swam as she slumped forward, barely able to keep her eyes open. The battlefield was silent now, save for the crackle of dying embers. The overwhelming power she had wielded was gone, replaced by the quiet aftermath of her victory.
Khei Noh collapsed onto the scorched earth, her body giving in to the exhaustion, too burned out to move any further without some sleep.
——---——— ——---———
Current Energy Level: 30%
——---——— ——---———
For a moment, it seemed as though Ul'duin had been utterly overwhelmed. His massive form disappeared beneath the cascade of searing magma and superheated energy. Soon, the chaos behind The Sunderer’s relentless assault abated, replaced by the hiss of cooling lava and the occasional rumble of shifting earth.
A’maroth’s fiery form swirled above the devastation triumphantly, feeding on the destruction below and propagating its sentient inferno. But beneath the molten barrage, something stirred.
Then, Ul'duin suddenly erupted from beneath the smoldering rubble – his body again, repairing the scorching wounds at a significant rate. He stood tall once more, molten rock dripping from his talons.. but there was a notable shift in his stance. An unnerving focus behind his crimson leer. Though not entirely devoid of rage, it harbored a new calculated edge as it locked onto the cosmic storm swirling above.
A’maroth, observing its foe rise from the ashes, surged forward again– flinging another wave of fiery tendrils toward Ul'duin, intending to incinerate him once and for all. But this time, Ul'duin didn’t try to dodge or block. Instead, his claws retracted and his monstrous jaw ominously yawned open.
As the fiery tendrils lashed out, they were drawn irresistibly into Ul'duin’s gaping maw, as though it became a bottomless void.
The Sunderer let out a cacophonous roar as the energy of its flames was dragged from its body. It twisted and writhed in futile resistance; The All-Consuming Storm was now shrinking, struggling, and unable to escape this unstoppable vortex.
A'morath's otherworldly wails faded within Ul'duin’s voracious maw. The battlefield fell silent soon after, save for the faint crackling of dissipating flames and the heavy, labored breaths of the victor.
His hulking form pulsed with new, dark power– his monstrous body now blazing with blackened embers. But soon, something within him began to shift and contort as his body adjusted to a new level of power far beyond what it had before.
But as the energy continued to pulse through him, the flames licking against him began to flicker until they grew unstable. In moments, Ul'duin's colossal form began to collapse inward, shrinking rapidly. His growls turned into ragged, human breaths as its body shifted– the black flames extinguishing soon after..
In his place, Khei Noh collapsed to her knees, gasping for air. Her body trembled, her skin still warm from the remnants of her chaotic battle. Her clothes were scorched, her skin still slightly blistered in places, but she was alive.
Barely.
Khei Noh’s body ached as she struggled to stay upright, her breaths shallow and labored. She felt as though she had been hollowed out, drained by the intensity of another battle that she couldn't remember.
She chuckled weakly, her voice a rasp: “..well, that wasn't so hard..”
Her vision swam as she slumped forward, barely able to keep her eyes open. The battlefield was silent now, save for the crackle of dying embers. The overwhelming power she had wielded was gone, replaced by the quiet aftermath of her victory.
Khei Noh collapsed onto the scorched earth, her body giving in to the exhaustion, too burned out to move any further without some sleep.
——---——— ——---———
Current Energy Level: 30%
——---——— ——---———
-
Aerys Hellgate
- Drifter
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Sun Sep 18, 2022 11:18 am
Re: Reflections of Ruin
[Hours Later]
[Continued From..]The suns had fallen low and the pungent scent of charred earth hit Aerys the moment his toes touched the surface of the island. The flames beneath him receded, leaving the lingering warmth of his jet-fueled flight behind every step he took. He created a small torch of fire to guide his movements. Vira wasnt bothered by fleeting light– sbe descended gracefully before him, her wings beating frantically as if she sensed their target nearby. She alerted him with an acute squawk before soaring further into the furth of the island. Her haste was palpable, and Aerys followed her lead, though now with a heightened sense of caution.
The island of Al' Nyr was unlike anything he had seen before. Devastation stretched out as far as his eyes could see, the land scorched and broken, as though a nuclear storm had swept through it. Blackened craters littered the ground, and what remained of the trees stood as skeletal reminders of the life that once thrived here. Aerys’ flames flared briefly as he moved forward, his senses on high alert.
"It's like someone killed everything livin’ on this island." He muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the obliterated landscape. "Down to the bloody trees."
Despite his usual confidence, a thread of unease began to weave its way through his thoughts. He was no stranger to power—his own abilities could quite literally contend against celestial giants—but this… felt otherworldly. Still, he kept his wits about him. Chest out. He faced powerful foes before, and his unbreakable body had yet to meet its match.
Vira’s sharp cry pulled Aerys from his thoughts, and he quickened his pace. The ruins of what had once been the Pyre’s Shrine rose before him in the horizon, a sacred place reduced to little more than a scorched husk; hallowed structures shattered, ceremonial flames long extinguished. This was remnants of two titans clashing– one that reduced this exotic strip of land into a wasteland of cracked marble and burned earth.
Despite this horrid vista, Vira darted ahead, her wings flaring as she landed beside a small, unremarkable mound of debris. Aerys slowed his approach, watching the bird carefully as she circled the spot.
Then, he saw her. The woman on the wanted poster.
He found her sprawled across a dirtied, makeshift bedding—a bag beneath her that bulged with loose currency, food and a few other personal effects.
Khei's body was smeared with ash, and the smell of scorched flesh. Naked and vulnerable, she looked far from the terrifying force that had brought an entire city to its knees. In fact, looked no better than the refugees in Dabih’r, struggling to stay alive amidst the mayhem.
Aerys knelt beside her, his gaze shifting from the unconscious woman to the bird, who now stood perched on a nearby rock. Vira watched him expectantly, waiting for his next move.
"That’s her, innit?" Aerys said, reaching into his vest and pulling out the wanted poster. He unfolded it with care, comparing the image to the figure before him. Even covered in grime, there was no mistaking her beauty—It was her.
A sigh escaped Aerys as he stood, folding the poster and tucking it back into his coat. "Good work, mate."
Vira tilted her head, as if understanding his words. Aerys reached up to his ear, unclasping the red crystal pendants that adorned them—rare jewels, vibrant and worth a small fortune should they be sold.
"Cheers." He tossed them toward Vira, who snapped them up in her beak with ease. "As promised. It’s worth more than what me and your master agreed on, but you tell em' you earned every penny.”
Vira gave a satisfied caw and flapped her wings, lifting off into the air and disappearing over the sundered landscape. Aerys watched her for a moment, then turned his attention back to Khei.
“As for you, love.." Aerys murmured, his tone grim. "The destruction of Dabih’r won’t go unanswered. Although.. can't say I'm convinced you did it.”
He crouched down, removed his shirt and used it to gently lift Khei's limp body into his arms and slung her bag over his shoulder. Once she was secured, Aerys took a deep breath and ignited the flames beneath his feet, propelling him into the air with a controlled grace that belied the destruction below.
As he soared above the smoking ruins of Al'Nyr, Aerys couldn’t help but feel a twinge of uncertainty. He had captured the girl, but what would happen next? He wasn't even sure whether or not she was a victim in all of this, but he knew one thing for certain—Khei would have a lot to explain when they returned to the Acrix.
Re: Reflections of Ruin
The cold night air brushed against Khei’s skin, a biting chill that slowly stirred her from the depths of unconsciousness. Every muscle in her body ached, her limbs heavy and unresponsive.. she was still disoriented from her recent battle.
When she managed to open her eyes, darkness surrounded her– broken only by the faint glow of the evening sky above and the moonlit shimmer of the Great Sea, roaring beneath her. Khei’s vision swam for a moment, but as her senses cleared, she became aware of the fact that she was no longer on the charred, solid ground of Al'Nyr.
She was being carried— flown, across The Great Sea.
Khei's pulse quickened as she glanced up to the face of the man holding her. His features were sharp and shadowed by the moonlight—a strong jawline, eyes focused ahead, with dark hair swept back by the rush of wind. His expression was calm and determined, as though this wasn’t the first time he had flown through the night sky with a wanted fugitive in tow.
"..who the—"
Her heart pounded as she wrestled with her groggy thoughts. She figured he was a bounty hunter.. or a mercenary hired by the remnants of her tribe. Either that, or someone who'd caught eye of one of her wanted posters that promised an exorbitant reward for her capture.
Her lips parted, dry and cracked from the bitter wind. “..hey...” Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. She swallowed, her throat raw, and tried again, louder this time. “You should... let me go.”
——---——— ——---———
Current Energy Level: 35%
——---——— ——---———
When she managed to open her eyes, darkness surrounded her– broken only by the faint glow of the evening sky above and the moonlit shimmer of the Great Sea, roaring beneath her. Khei’s vision swam for a moment, but as her senses cleared, she became aware of the fact that she was no longer on the charred, solid ground of Al'Nyr.
She was being carried— flown, across The Great Sea.
Khei's pulse quickened as she glanced up to the face of the man holding her. His features were sharp and shadowed by the moonlight—a strong jawline, eyes focused ahead, with dark hair swept back by the rush of wind. His expression was calm and determined, as though this wasn’t the first time he had flown through the night sky with a wanted fugitive in tow.
"..who the—"
Her heart pounded as she wrestled with her groggy thoughts. She figured he was a bounty hunter.. or a mercenary hired by the remnants of her tribe. Either that, or someone who'd caught eye of one of her wanted posters that promised an exorbitant reward for her capture.
Her lips parted, dry and cracked from the bitter wind. “..hey...” Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. She swallowed, her throat raw, and tried again, louder this time. “You should... let me go.”
——---——— ——---———
Current Energy Level: 35%
——---——— ——---———
-
Aerys Hellgate
- Drifter
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Sun Sep 18, 2022 11:18 am
Re: Reflections of Ruin
Aerys grip tightened slightly, as he felt Khei begin to stir in his arms . His gaze flicked down, surprise flashing across his face. “You’re awake?” His voice was deep, tinged with disbelief, but he didn’t slow their flight. He quickly shifted his attention back to the horizon, his focus unwavering despite the unexpected development.
“Well... certainly wasn’t expectin’ that, considering you look like you've just crawled out of some demon's ass.” His smirk broadened, his usual cockiness slipping back into place as he glanced at her again, his tone laced with amusement.
"Care to tell me what happened down there?" Aerys pressed, his voice casually cutting through the wind. The moonlight casted a soft, silver glow across his’ face, highlighting the smirk still playing at the corner of his mouth. His confidence was palpable—perhaps misplaced, given the circumstances, but it was clear he wasn’t someone easily shaken. He was assessing Khei– still a bit skeptical of her identity as a wanted criminal.
“Well... certainly wasn’t expectin’ that, considering you look like you've just crawled out of some demon's ass.” His smirk broadened, his usual cockiness slipping back into place as he glanced at her again, his tone laced with amusement.
"Care to tell me what happened down there?" Aerys pressed, his voice casually cutting through the wind. The moonlight casted a soft, silver glow across his’ face, highlighting the smirk still playing at the corner of his mouth. His confidence was palpable—perhaps misplaced, given the circumstances, but it was clear he wasn’t someone easily shaken. He was assessing Khei– still a bit skeptical of her identity as a wanted criminal.
The team