[color=lightgray] Yesterday’s hunt had gone well. And now, Velhass inspected the skin he cut away from the rakthir they caught. He laid it over the fire last night, to dry it out and make it easier to clean for the colder seasons. It was large and would make a good covering. Looking up into the trees, he saw a pair of birds flying under the midday sun. [color=d68300]”Howlerwings…”[/color] Shirik walked out of their quaint abode, looking up at the sky. [color=d68300]”They should be hibernating by now… Odd. Velhass, did you use the ash base I showed you for that?”[/color] Velhass nodded, the underside of the rakthir pelt was dry as bone, in no small part thanks to the curious mix of wood ash, paste from some [i]alarmingly[/i] poisonous fruit that Shirik just happened to cultivate last season in their garden, and animal fat. [color=cornflowerblue]”How do you know so many things like that? Did one of your hunting ancestors teach you?”[/color] [color=d68300]”They do not teach me anything, but no. I learned that from a S’tor in the northern mountains, shortly after I won a god’s crown in a game of Damage.”[/color] Velhass stared at Shirik. This was one of their stories that he could neither confirm nor deny. [color=cornflowerblue]”…There is some part of that story which is true, and I have no way of knowing [i]which,”[/i][/color] He shook his head, and returned to his work, cutting away bits of sinew that shrunk under the smoke with a chuckle. Shirik laughed, only it sounded like the death throes of a dying animal. [color=d68300]”One day, you’ll learn that I [i]rarely[/i] tell an imagined tale, boy.”[/color] Shirik leaned on their walking staff, pondering the forest that lay before them both. [color=cornflowerblue]”And just [i]how[/i] did you meet a god?”[/color] [color=d68300]”By leaving this fragile form behind, while my mind delved beyond what is known, to find peace in my new life,”[/color] Shirik retorted, matter-of-factly. Velhass did not have a witty remark for that. He let the answer go for a moment as he thought about what Shirik just said. They never talked about how they wound up burning alive perpetually. [color=cornflowerblue]”…How did that happen? The… Well-“[/color] [color=d68300]”The flames?”[/color] They could tell Velhass was trying to be polite about it. Not that they needed to be cautious at this point. [color=d68300]”I was burned alive, many centuries ago. Have you heard of the Kolodon?”[/color] [color=cornflowerblue]”Some. Only stories,”[/color] he said, curiously. [color=d68300]”They ruled everything in this world, once. They conquered it all, laying claim to whatever was strong enough to survive their passing. I was young like you, when I witnessed their attack on my home.”[/color] Shirik knelt down beside Velhass, and waved a hand through the air. Wisps of flame shaped into a glowing tapestry, depicting S’tor and Iriad in a war. [color=d68300]”I hadn’t realized what happened, until it was too late. I was set ablaze like the forest around us all, and then I saw things that no living being could understand. I saw the birth of the world, and I saw its end. And it was all one continuous moment… Life and death, cast in golden hues. Burning as a flame.”[/color] The images fell away, one after another, until there was only one Iriad rising from the ground, where tall trees once stood in the background. [color=d68300]”It changed me. I was not reborn, but I was no longer the soldier with ancestry of hunters.”[/color] Velhass listened with rapt attention, marveling at the small tale. He felt small, uninteresting in comparison to the immortal being he took to calling a father. From time to time, Shirik told stories of times long past, of great kings far beyond the horizon, noble heroes who wandered this land before his grandparents could form words, and of places no one but Shirk themself had seen. Velhass often wondered just how many of Shirik’s stories were true, and how many were elderly ramblings. But now… Was he just another page in the book of someone who would outlive the universe? [color=cornflowerblue]”Do you ever miss the Myriad? Could you ever go home if you wanted?”[/color] [color=d68300]”The world is my home, boy. Every step I’ve taken, every road I’ve walked. I was here long before the borders of today were drawn out on maps, and I will be here long after they’ve faded,”[/color] Shirik looked up at the sky, towards the south where they were born so long ago. [color=d68300]”I often wonder if the faces from my old life still live as we do, but I am just a memory to them all now.”[/color] One day, Velhass would be dead and just a memory as well. He knew this, and it wasn’t particularly a revelation to him. But thinking about Shirik’s age made him feel an emotion he couldn’t put to words. It wasn’t sadness, there was nothing to be sad about. [color=cornflowerblue]”My family left me behind too. Before the inquisitors found me.”[/color] [color=d68300]”I thought they were…”[/color] [i]Dead.[/i] Velhass didn’t like talking about where he came from. Shirik knew this. [color=cornflowerblue]”I think they are. They told me they’d come home one day, after they were done being soldiers. If they didn’t die, they lied to me.”[/color] Shirik stayed quiet for a moment. Velhass couldn’t tell what was going on behind those burning eyes, but it must’ve been something like understanding. [color=d68300]”You’ll see them again, one day.”[/color] [color=cornflowerblue]”How do you know?”[/color] Shirik stood, leaning on their staff. [color=d68300]”Nothing is permanent, Velhass. You’ll understand, one day.”[/color] [center][img]https://images-ext-1.discordapp.net/external/hzWSZBl9zGKBkjcRbuA8svnXvaiQJSRAa2ZKSe3bkCY/https/fontmeme.com/permalink/230828/3480d2b7c759790f845d4698af0e4cd3.png[/img][/center] [hr] They were cornered. The river-dwelling beast was set ablaze, and splattered like day-old salad. But it was still kicking, despite being on fire. The other human, Mallory, was injured and surrounded by the Glen, who were taking hits. Being in the middle of them gave Shirik space to take in the battlefield. They did not need ancestral memory to recall the tactics of yesteryear. These creatures were forneless, they warped and twisted themselves into new forms as if they were made of clay. In this world, it was Life mages who held such power. Shirik wouldn’t put it past a particularly deranged one to create such abominations. Magic opened up possibilities that the denizens of Kanth-Arenek could never dream of otherwise. The Glen were not impenetrable, and neither were the humans. Shirik elected to kill two birds with one stone. With their staff in hand, they drew a circle of fire in the air, sticking an arm through it one it was completely. The flames went from warm gold, to a bony white color in the blink of an eye, seemingly brighter than they were initially. Palm open, and fingers curled, Shirik pointed the ring at the creature attacking Ixtaro. The end of their staff began forming a glowing ball of heat, with thin, almost invisible strands of light trailing from one spell to the next. The orb of heat grew brighter and brighter, into a miniature sun no larger than a human fist. The more attentive warriors would notice that a much larger orb of mist and fog seemed to be crackling in front of Shirik’s hand, glimmering like winter wind in the moonlight. [color=d68300]”Get back here, Ixtaro!”[/color] They bellowed, as the glowing white ring moved forward, past their hand. Shirik spread their fingers, and the shimmering air was sent forth like a spear, the only indication of magic being used to attack. Shirik’s spell was the exact opposite of a fireball, it was a void of heat, colder than what any living being could hope to survive, drained of every scrap of friction imaginable. This blast of ice was intended to flash freeze the monster, and compromise its ability to reform, or successfully get up the bridge to Ixtaro. And as there was take, so too was there give. All of the heat they sapped from the air directly in front of them was now theirs to use. They closed a hand around the blazing orb, and let it deep through their cracked bark like water into roots. Flame was the lifeblood that gave Shirik the energy to keep going. And after they flew through the air like a Force mage, they needed to boost. [color=d68300]”When I give the signal, shield your eyes, all of you!”[/color] They raised their staff high overhead, and started drawing curious shapes. If this worked, it could turn the tide of battle. But they needed time… [/color]