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[color=8882be][i][b]“I’m terribly sorry about that, Tharos. I was, obviously, on edge. I still am, if I’m being honest…”[/b][/i][/color] The elf-maiden apologized and explained with the intertwining, flowing syllables of the New Fae tongue. She sat at the only table, placed directly in the middle of the modest study. Shelves lined the surrounding walls, but most were empty, while the others were half-filled at best. A single oil-lamp on the tabletop cast its orange light and flickering shadows around the room.  

Too lost in thought, she didn’t look at him as he moved to sit. Instead, her grim gaze stared through the worn rug at their feet while her mind raced for how to explain. 

Thessi glanced quickly towards her brother’s shirt, which was already spotless again, thanks to a little magic unbinding the blood from the cloth. [color=8882be][i][b]“Here.”[/b][/i][/color] She slid it across the table to her brother, then returned to nervously wringing her hands. [color=8882be][i][b]“Easy fix.”[/b][/i][/color] She said, buying herself another moment to think.

Finally, she blurted out a statement as simple as it was vague: [color=8882be][i][b]“It spoke to me.”[/b][/i][/color] 

There was a moment of fretful hesitation before she continued. [color=8882be][i][b]“That Which Breathes Below, it… it spoke to me.”[/b][/i][/color] Another momentary pause while her fingertips tapped the tabletop, giving her train of thought an opportunity to jump tracks. 

[color=8882be][i][b]“...Do you remember the stories that Grandmother used to tell us? About when she was young and small, and still… still living on the Conquered World? About how their gods lived among them?”[/b][/i][/color] Thessi rambled on, before stopping again to search his face, making sure he was following. [color=8882be][i][b]“She said they ruled from mighty temples, where only their most devout acolytes could enter, because the very presence of a true god could be lethal to the uninitiated, cause others to collapse, even break bones and cause hemorrhaging…”[/b][/i][/color] She took a deep breath, preparing to face the feeling of recollecting what she’d felt in her own brief but poignant encounter.

[color=8882be][i][b]“I think that’s what it is… a god.”[/b][/i][/color] Her voice quieted, as though something might manifest at the behest of just a word. [color=8882be][i][b]“When it spoke to me, I felt like I was being crushed from all directions. Its voice chilled me through every vein, down through my very spine, with merely a whisper.”[/b][/i][/color] She drummed her fingers along the table again. [color=8882be][i][b]“And that voice… or voices… I can’t begin to describe.”[/b][/i][/color] She continued, then gave a sudden, odd chuckle. [color=8882be][i][b]“It was worse than the most pretentious poets back home, these strange languages all speaking over and between each other…”[/b][/i][/color]

She finally looked at Tharos for more than an instant, with mounting fear continuing to darken her expression. [color=8882be][i][b]“Grandmother said that the gods destroyed the Old World with their grudges and their games...”[/b][/i][/color] She suddenly gripped his hand, a little too tight for comfort, and leaned forward intently. [color=8882be][i][b]“What if this is the beginning of another terrible end?”[/b][/i][/color]