Fantasy Shattered Fates - A Dark Fantasy Boss Battling Epic

[Siren77]

Finally! At last both Irosane and Mordreds attempts came to an avail. As the large syth of the one named Kyo crashed into the pillar, a loud crack erupted followed by the top portion toppiling over with Iro on top of it and crushing only the lower half of the severed twisted beast. But it was enough to finish the job, and the snickering monstrousity lay in a heap, gasping for air and gurgling on its own vile blood. Panting for air, Irosane stood from the pillar and grabbed his swords. Slowly, he got down listening on to the beasts final words. Each and every syllable only enraging him more and more. “I think I speak for all of us when I say that we do not fear whatever awaits us in this hell. But our fates will not be intertwined with yours. We still have the choice to chang per destinies, whereas you have run out of time ancient one. Now...” lifting his swords above the twisted beings head, Irosane sneered in disgust. “Accept death, for its embrace awaits you. Fall for your sins.” The twin blades were plunged straight into the ancients skull with surprising ease. Almost as if the monster had given up and now chose to make itself vulnerable.

Taking in a few deep breaths, Irosane managed to calm himself down before looking back at the two whisps fading away on the grassy floor. Grimacing, Iro said a prayer in his heart for them to have a sage passage to the after life, thinking them dead. Looking around to his allies, Iro broadly asked, “Is everyone okay? Any significant wounds or other injuries?” Eventually he turned to the most recognizable of his allies, Niatiel, and gave her a soft smile. “See? I told you your plan was the best hands we had. And it worked! Because of you, the rest of us were able to survive this mess. Well...” Iro looked to Dwynn and Vystari. “Almost everyone.”

Turning his attention back to the corpse of the twisted beast, Iro approached once more and retrieved his blades before putting them together and slinging them across his back. “The Essence of Miracles huh?” Looking at the black and vile looking heart, Irosane carefully observed it before using one of his swords to carefully remove the organ and hold it in his right hand. “Now, what is it that we must do to retrieve this essence? Unless,” giving the black form a small squeeze, the same black blood from before dripped out of it. “Consume, as in eat or drink. This won’t be pleasant.” Holding the organ up, Iro gave it a much firmer squeeze and let the blood drip into his mouth. Almost instantly he felt like throwing up, and began to cough and sputter. Their was something unholy about this essence, and yet he could feel power welling from it. Forcing himself to drink more, Irosane eventually had his fill and felt that he needed no more. Now it was the others turn to do the same, if they so wished. “Come on then, who’s next?”

 

[kasigi]

As the pillar was cleaved into, Mordred could practically feel it crumble and loosen. He knew that it was finally going to fall, and was absolutely relieved. The grotesque beast would finally be slain, and the battle would be over at least. Kyo's swing was devastating and fast, she could have easily just sliced straight through both of them, along with the pillar, if she had not warned them prior. With one final push of effort, he finally felt it move from it's sturdy base, toppling down. As it crashed against a portion of the beast, Mordred looked down. It was torn in half, but it didn't seem to be due to the pillar. It was as if it pulled itself in half by itself. Did the beast unknowingly commit suicide? Even so, Mordred knew there would be no way the beast would be able to live for much longer. The chamber shook as the pillar came down, Mordred wondering if it would split in two under the weight of the pillar crashing down onto the monster.

Mordred braced himself until the ground stopped shaking and everything seemed to settle. It seemed as if the chamber would be fine for now. Modred moved from where he was, hoisting the greatsword over his shoulder as he moved, letting it rest. "We've done it, at last! The beast will trouble us no more." Mordred moved down from his position, heading to the beast's location. He slipped past the grotesque, crushed bottom half of the creature, that still seemed to ooze blood. He went to the top half, next to Irosane, as the beast began to speak. He listened closely as it spoke, silently. He studied what it said, taking it in. 'Slayers of the ancients'? That is what it called us. A clue to what the future held for them. Even so, their fate, truly, was yet to be decided. The control was in their hands, and perhaps they would leave eachother's side, eventually. He could already tell that these 'ancients' would most likely be powerful beings, old ones, at that. There were many clues. Why else would they be given these weapons? They were supposed to fight in the future.

Now, he was being asked to consume the beast's essence, staring at the heart that the beast pointed at. He watched as Irosane took it out of the beast. "Yes, consume.. I suppose that drinking the 'essence' would be the way.." He stood silently as Irosane attempted to down the liquid inside the beast's heart, eventually getting a rather hefty amount. "I will pass on the beast's offer. I refuse to allow such a vile substance to plague my body and mind. Though, I wont stop any of you from doing so as well." He turned to the others as he spoke, assuming they were close enough to hear him. He moved from the top half of the beast's corpse, staring upwards. The seemingly endless void above them didn't sit well with him, but he hadn't necessarily noticed it until now. "We have to get out of here. There must be some sort of exit. If we stay here, who knows what will happen. Dealing with another beast would be impossible at this point, we're not prepared for it, especially if they're more powerful than... That thing."

 

[Euclid Leaf]

...

As Irosane tore out the the still-beating heart and drank the foul liquid, prying apart the dangling rips and digging through the crumbling, parchment-feeling skin, the beast let out a long sigh and went silent. For good, this time. The only movement in the room now was the exhaustion of battle, and the lingering presence of the dreadful smog and scattered dust. Though it felt harmless now. Drinking of the black blood, he did feel something aside from the horrible taste. Their new bodies, as he has learned, were quite resilient. And even now, with this rotten blood trickling down his throat, his body accepted it and assimilated the stranger power hidden within with surprising ease. Like an empty vase, being filled with water. That unholiness that he felt was probably close to the mark. A lingering feeling abruptly peered from inside of him. As though waiting, lurking within his very soul. It would fill him with unease, as though he was being invaded and pried upon by strange eyes. Though, what this feeling exactly was, will have to manifest itself another time. And form what you can tell, probably for the worst.

-- Irosane gains an 'Unstable Dread', please mark this somewhere in your character sheet Siren77 , for reference.

When he held it in offering for his companions, many of whom yet to react, Morded refused it, and spoke of an escape, and exit to this dark nightmare. But before anyone else can speak their feelings, the organ seized and deflated, suddenly shriveling. What power it had, he stole from the others. Or perhaps there was a separate power that he stole? A bloom of light then appeared in his hands, all of the Stigmas and Black Vessels suddenly reacting.

-- The Black Vessels will vibrate, as though in fear, the grisly eyes adorning these weapons closing shut for the entire duration of this event. You share this feeling, even though you know it is not your own. Or maybe it is?

-- The Stigmas will hum and glow, filling you with a fleeting feeling of vertigo. Each one, for each character, will shine a different color and hue.

The dead beast blossomed too, the pale grass surrounding it suddenly rising, ebbing and flowing like a current. Its chest, the gaping maw, opened and spread with light, much like one of the glowing white flowers all around you. The oily black blood, that covered the battleground suddenly started flickering and floating upwards, swirling and dancing in a humbling rhythm and the remains of the beast soon joined as well. The heart, or what was now an orb of light exploded in a gust of pedals, joining the whirlwind of sparkling silver. Then, it divided and fell upon the survivors in a vicious surge. Though the feeling was anything but harmful. Their wisp forms suddenly radiated to the power, glowing bright, like tiny stars themselves. They suddenly felt a burst of overwhelming energy, of power, of change, your emotions and being dissimulating into one for just a split moment.

-- Gain 1 Essence.

This boon of power flowed within the wisps, waiting to settle down. But you can feel like it can be moved about, flowing and collecting like a drip of dew. Perhaps there was another choice to be made still?
But you do not have much time. You feel a growing drowsiness, a sudden sinking building up. You only have a few moments before it overwhelmes you, and you will find it impossible to resist closing your eyes. And falling asleep.

 

[Juju]

(Spoiler: Dwynn and Vystari die in infinity war.)
(p.s. I'm sorry this post is super long...so many things happened! O>O It was supposed to be 2 posts!)

When the battle finally came to its chaotic conclusion Niatiel was left feeling exhausted and sick to her stomach. Looking at the pool of bloodied gore probably didn't help much, but she couldn't keep her eyes off the snickering beast. Was it dead? Were they safe? She flinched when it moved and instinctively ducked behind Faris, peering out from behind him with eyes wide in both curiosity and caution. As she listened to its words she found that she felt sad for it, even after everything it had done. Maybe they could help it or ask it questions? No, that hope was dashed when Irosane executed it. At least it was out of its misery once and for all.

Niatiel nodded stiffly at Irosane's words. His smile made her feel slightly better, but she couldn't find the same joy in victory as he did. They may have won, but they lost something great. Her eyes flicked to the corpses of Dwynn and Vystari when he mentioned them and she felt her heart sag. The back of her throat suddenly felt dry and when she swallowed it hurt. With tiny footsteps she left Faris' side to approach the two, as if they were sleepers not to be disturbed.

"Dwynn... Vystari... I'm sorry you had t-" she choked on the apology and afterwards fell silent, unable to find the strength to pick up the broken words. As she stared down at the two something warm traced down her face, a tear, and she quickly brushed it away with the back of her hand. Shamefully Niatiel tore her gaze away from the shriveled bodies of her one-time allies, the guilt becoming too much to bear. Flowers, she suddenly thought, they need flowers.

While Irosane harvested the wolf's heart, the heavy-hearted Niatiel wandered around the shattered pillar in search of the glowing flowers. Most of the brilliant flora had been destroyed in the collapse, but by some stroke of luck she managed to find two. Using her dagger she cut them free and then carried them over to the fallen souls, placing one in front of each. Just before she turned to walk away however, her eyes caught a faint rustle of the petals. Niatiel blinked in surprise, thinking it was nothing but her imagination. Then it happened again and her heart stopped. Her limbs felt numb as she dropped onto her hands and knees and brought her ear to Dwynn's mouth. Warm air brushed against her face, now pale in shock. Nia quickly scrambled over to Vystari and repeated the process. Could it be? Tears swelled in her eyes again, but this time they were from joy.

Niatiel jumped to her feet. "They're alive!" she declared in disbelief, then paused when she realized the obvious problem. "Is there a way we can heal them?" She looked at the heart in Irosane's hand and then realized there was some of the black blood on his lips. Did he...drink the blood? She had been so preoccupied with the other souls that she didn't notice the previous conversation. Before she could ask about it the heart shriveled up and was replaced with a plume of light so bright Niatiel could hardly look at it directly. But she did anyway, its beauty captivating her gaze and her previous woes. Her head began to swim and when she looked down she saw that her stigma was glowing in a flare of white. When she looked up again the air had become a snowstorm of petals and the glowing orb was floating above their heads.

She couldn't explain what happened next but she felt an enormous surge of power, then fatigue. Soon enough her tired limbs gave way and she fell beside Dwynn and Vystari. The blurry world began to fade away. So tired... have to sleep. Her mind was fuzzy, but a sudden twang of fear sharpened it for a moment. What if she awoke and Dwynn and Vystari were gone? Defiantly she struggled against the sleep and tried to focus on the power now inside her. Could she direct it towards them in a way similar to Irosane's leg? Was it possible? Even if she had to give up this essence to do it, she would.

Perhaps the others had already succumbed by now, and she would join them soon, but her determined spirit granted her just a little longer. Maybe she was too stubborn to give up when hope was lost, or maybe she was just too childish to accept the death of strangers. Nonetheless she had to try something, nobody else was, but every effort just dragged her closer to the encroaching torpor. She wanted to cry but she didn't have the strength. Niatiel gave one last helpless shiver, like a deer caught in a wolf's jaws, before she closed her eyes.

 

[seasonedcat]

Kyo's scythe cut the pillar with ease, a little to much ease in fact. She had expected more resistance from the pillar so she put a bit to much into her swing causing an ungraceful landing. Kyo rubbed the back of her head as she sat on her butt, this is why it's better if you just sit down and let others fight, you don't end up falling on your ass. Her scythe was dropped next to her after her fall and she had yet to bother retrieving it so no one tripped on it. Kyo lazily listened to what was happening. They were supposed to absorb some essence from this beast apparently, why Kyo didn't know it was just the monster's dying wishes.

Kyo's lazy expression turned to one of surprise as she saw Irosane's actions and was about to object but was to late as he began to drink down the blood. Kyo winced in empathy before returning to her normal stoic face, it was to late now anyway, no reason to waste energy worrying about it now. She shook her head silently at the offer of having some to and went back staring lazily around the room. The last thing Kyo wanted was to make herself sick after finally getting a second chance of being cured, and eating a heart of a beast that's stomach leaked corruption didn't seem all that safe.

It didn't seem that Kyo was the only one with this thought as Mordred also refused partaking of the heart. However it seemed that Irosane was the only one able to drink the sweet blood of the beast as soon after he drank it, the heart shriveled up like an old grape, losing all it's blood. But not only that happened, it soon turned into some sort of light, lighting up every dark corner in the room. Kyo felt herself shiver at the light, somewhere in her she felt some fear for this light, however she had no idea why.

As if by instinct she looked over at her scythe and pulled it closer to herself, was this random feeling of fear coming from the weapon? She had little time to ponder over this as she soon felt a tiredness sweep over her. What had caused her to become so tried so suddenly? Was it using her weapon that caused this? She had used it only once, however could this be a side affect of using it? She could barely think of it, her mind was so fuzzy, her eyes so heavy. She allowed the mysterious force to lull her to sleep, falling back onto the ground, her scythe still in a lose grip.

Sleep slowly consumed her, her eyes closing easily. This may have been a forced sleep, but Kyo was enjoying the rest nonetheless.

( :V *insert sleepy face*)

 

[Damafaud]

When the beast ripped the metallic sphere off, Faris staggered a few steps behind as the resistance came to an unexpected end. As Irosane finished off the beast, He winded the chain that was connected to his wrist around his arm, making it easier to carry. Niatiel was behind him as he, and everyone else, listened at the beast's last word. Would he ended up like the beast? Turned by his own vessel into a monstrosity? He didn't want to end like that. But more importantly...

He turned his gaze toward the two figures on the ground. Niatiel had approached them with a sorrowful look on her face. He watched her silently as she plucked two glowing flowers, laying them gently against their two fallen comrades. He couldn't do so. Frankly, he was jealous of her. To be able to shed tears to those she only knew for a short time. His compassion was not so deep. His heart was not so empathetic. As he turned his eyes from the sorrowful scene toward that of the beast, he heard Niatiel's gasp.

They were alive.

Yet... could something be done to save them? He felt doubtful.

Irosane, following the advice of the beast, had consumed the heart. The black organ was nowhere to be seen. Only the black blood dripping from his mouth remained of what was the heart. A light suddenly appeared from Irosane's hands. Faris could feel the metallic sphere quivered in his hand, as a strange fear echoed in his heart. Was it fearful of the light? What came to him next was a surge of power. As sleepiness started to overcome his consciousness, he once again stared at the two fallen comrades.

Could he do something for them? He had no relation with them, and doing nothing wouldn't leave him any feeling. And yet...

He sighed. He directed the power he just received toward the two figures. He hoped it would do something, as he drifted to sleep.

 

[Siren77]

Well that’s it then, the only question that remains is where do we go now? And what is it that we will do after? The Twisted Beast called us the Slayers of Ancients. Will there be more despicable creatures like it awaiting for us? I suppose the only answers we have lies in the woman that brought us here. The unshakable anger Iro felt before the fight returned to his stomach, welling up inside him the longer he let these dark thoughts well in his mind. She’d better have a damn good reason for bringing us here, tearing away our memories and our past lives from us, only to put us in harms way. So many lives have already been lost. He turned to the seemingly lifeless bodies of Vystari and Dwynn, as well as what was left of the whisps that had been there since the beginning of this interaction. They did not ask for or deserve this fate. Neither do any of us for that matter. Niatiel, Mordred, Kyo, and Faris. All of them had fought so valiantly along side him. He was glad to see none of them had gotten injured.

Turning to Kyo, the latecomer, Iro was about to approach her and say something only to feel something other than anger fill his soul. Something evil and unholy. As the black heart withered away in his hands, Irosane felt an Unstable Dread consume him. Unease filled his consciousness, his eyes darting about to every object in the room almost expecting something to be there. Eyes pried at him, and yet he saw nothing. Where the eyes behind him? Drawing his blades he turned to face whatever it was that was creeping in his soul only to again find no answers.

Just as suddenly as the feeling cane, it left. Replaced by the feeling of a dizzying vertigo, Iro found himself falling to one knee as his mind spun in circles over and over again. Finally looking down and beholding his hands, a light shone about where the heart had once lied. Not only that, but the stigma embedded in his chest featuring the strange symbol was glowing a deep crimson. The vertigo persisted, yet Iro held strong against it. Shortly thereafter the light in his hands burst asunder into a flurry of petals which scattered about the room. As the collection of blood, petals, and the beasts remains spiraling in a whirlwind and surged into the whisps, Iro felt a surge of power well within him. But where would this power go? What would he do with it? Strength.... Give me the Strength to continue fighting through this madness! I haven’t given up yet, and I don’t plan on doing so later. If an enemy appears in front of me. I will destroy it...

“Unghhh.... Sleep... I need sleep.” As the others began to fall one by one around him. Irosane simply let himself drop and hit the grassy ground with a thud. The Unstable Dread would return as the whisp slept. Letting fear consume his mind as he slipped into what felt like a nightmare.

 

[kasigi]

It was obvious they were meant to move on, to leave the chamber. Going along with this would be beneficial for now, and besides, Mordred didn't have much of a choice. With that said, he studied for an exit in the room, but he couldn't see anything incredibly obvious, rather than the way that they came. While Mordred understood their supposed purpose, he wondered where the root of it stemmed from. Was the existence of reality in trouble, were powerful beings a threat? Perhaps that woman would tell them eventually, unless she was one they needed to defeat as well. Was it all just a game, where they used as as pawns? It would be made clear eventually, but it was cloudy. It was frustrating. Even if he had kept those unnecessary burdens, it wouldn't allow him to understand what was going on. He decided to continue using his strength as long as possible, until he fell in battle. It was all that Mordred lived for now, and to support these people he'd been brought together with.

The fate of the two who had joined them was a sad one. It's a shame, coming into this existence, given a chance to start anew, and have it taken away so quickly. They had died honorably in battle. Before he could go to their side, he watched as a light began to glow in Irosane's hands, illuminating a portion of the room. Was that the heart? Mordred wasn't sure, but it must have been a reaction to him drinking the blood. After staring at the light, then he had felt something else. It was an odd sense of power, but he wasn't sure where it was coming from.

After a moment, he noticed his phoenix Stigma. It began to glow a beautiful red colour, that looked very mesmerizing. The strange feeling was something he wasn't sure of, he didn't know how to explain it to himself.

Then, he noticed the beast's body began to change as well. Mordred watched as the blood began to rise up into the air. It was incredibly supernatural, and a little bit beautiful, in a way. Along with being beautiful, it was a disgusting. He couldn't stop watching the swirling manifesting in the air. As it fell upon each of them individually, he felt himself brace to feel pain, but he didn't feel anything. In fact, the feeling was pleasant and welcomed. It made him feel power and energy, and it was welcomed. It was as if he could literally feel the power. This didn't last long, though, as after only a few moments of enjoying the euphoria, a wave of drowsiness washed over him right afterwards. The power still lingered, but his need for sleep suddenly just overshadowed it. Mordred instantly assumed that it obviously wouldn't be a very natural sleep. Doing everything in his power to resist it, he soon came to understand that no matter what, he couldn't stop it. Instead of simply collapsing to the ground, he sat down, before laying, letting his eyes close with his sword nearby.

 

[Euclid Leaf]

As the mystical spell of sleep befell the party, two of the heroic wisps opened their hearts to the dying ones who were meant to be left behind. Though strangers, Niatiel and Farris showed compassion towards the lifeless husks. For indeed, though they shared no history, not ones they could possibly remember at least, they shared the heavy bond of this mysterious and challenging new destiny. Sacrificing their Essence, they would enact a miracle before their eyes too drifted and sealed shut to the magic. Their Stigmas shone their lustrous personal color and they can feel the power leave them. Droplets of light dribbled from their arcane markings, flowing down the cobbled stone in a river of pale blood towards the dried husks. But they would not see what their selflessness would lead, being that a wave of slumber viciously consumed their waking world. Just as everything went black in the ruined, now dream-like chamber, there was a gleam and a whisper that rose between them all. And so, they all sank to sleep.

A voice familiar but too foreign to place a name or place, or thing can be heard by them all, while they drifted in the nothing. There was a lullaby in these strange whispers. For a moment, you think you hear each other's voices. However, muted and inaudible, like currents in a deep sea.

"Dream... Dream.... follow this song that etches your Dream.
Little children, my seedlings, drifting somewhere in between.
Stars... Stars... Stars adorn here, where they shall never be.
A world of make believe, yet so true to see...
Though beautiful it may be, close your eyes...
Keep them shut, and scare away the Lies... "

-- If you have not chosen already, feel free to spend your Essence to enhance a stat. Otherwise, mark it in your sheet and hold onto it. This is a powerful resource with many uses, many of which have not revealed themselves yet. As they say, having a 'miracle' at hand is the mark of a Hero. While you sleep, you will have a glimpse of a memory. A personal one, if not already another, still vague and unclear.

-- Irosane, however, would suffer a striking nightmare.

Spoiler

He would feel like he was falling through an endless void, similar to his first moments back alive. However, this would not be as peaceful as previously. In the darkness, a deep shadow lurked, a form so large and grotesque he can't even being to see the end. Suddenly, a massive eye dawned upon him, staring down at him from the darkness. Almost like a moon. It's deep violet hue would cause him to fall into a an abrupt and precipitated fever. An irritably itch would crawl across his skin and a swell of heat would begin to spill sweat. But it would soon become worse. Far worse. A blistering fever would eventually erupt stretched across his skin, forcing him to scream and scratch. A pain of which he never could've imagined. He would awaken with the lingering sting of this agony.

The wisps would suddenly awaken form their slumber in a new room, lifting their eyes from a faint bleariness. They would find themselves all littered around a large open atrium made of carved and ordained silver metal. They would find a stark difference in themselves, their bodies less airy and wisp-like, being more solid and clothed in simple plain robes with an elegant design over their backs. They might find themselves laying across the floor or slumped up against a pillar or plinth, of which formed a circular ring that divided into itself before splitting off towards other hallways. A dozen, at the very least. It seemed an aged place, as though lost long ago. Though, the words 'forgotten' felt more accurate. Tattered drapes with torn tassels, eroded symbols, and broken statuettes of various figures hung from the walls, all painted by a fine layer of dust. And at the very center of the room, where they were all faced towards, was a cracked staircase, surrounded by shattered columns, that appeared to spiral downwards. It seemed particularly disheveled there. The ceiling was cracked open above these toppled spires, as if torn off, leading up to a purely black sky with a single source of light that lit everything there. The ominous crimson slit, stared back at you, the ember-like remains of the sun you first saw when you awoke in this strange world.

As you look around, you notice a humming. It came from behind, and when you turn you head to look, you see the Goddess herself. The horned lady seemed to be doing something, solemnly knelt over an object on the ground. You realize it was a husk, unfamiliar to the ones of Dwynn and Vystari.

Her pale eyes linger low. "Poor, little one... Though you had failed the trials, you shall always have a home here..."

Picking up the husk in her arms, she stands up and begins to carry the body towards one of the hallways. As she does so, she notices that you've all awoken. A faint smile is presented to the each of you, along with a soft bow and nod of her head.

"Ah, so you've stirred from your soft slumber, my chosen..." She said in her usual airy voice, trying to maintain her smile. But it seemed difficult with the corpse in her hands. The Goddess looked like she had just lost one of her own children.

"I'm sure your dream was much more pleasant than what you've experience thus far... I hope you enjoyed my gift to you. That personal memory, of yours. Those are particularly hard to find again. But I feel you deserve it, after all you've done." she then turns on her heels, clicking the floor reminding you of the hidden black talons, "I know an explanation is in order. Follow me. I would like to show you something as I lay this one along with the others. Together, they shall never be alone again... As was my promise."

...

 

[Siren77]

Isn’t it odd how dreams can be so well connected to the real world? The emotions you feel in a dream can be felt so vividly upon awaking from ones slumber be it joy, sadness, anger, or fear... However most can say that physical pain, unless previously experienced in real life, is never felt. You could dream of being chased down by some sort of psychopath, get stabbed a thousand times, have your entrails ripped from with you. Yet you wouldn’t feel a thing. Irosane on the other hand, though it was only a dream he’d never felt such excruciating agony before. While the grotesque being instilled an unshakable fear inside of him, the violet eye that stared into his soul in the heavens wrought pain down to his core. A blistering heat overcame him, as well as maddening itch he could never scratch. As he yelled, screamed, and writhed around in agony there was no telling if his real body was doing the same thing. Make it stop! Please I beg of you, end my torment! I don’t care anymore what you have to do to end it! Deprive me of my senses, let me sleep forever, or kill me if you must. Just make it stop!

The angry whisp, or lack there of at this point, awoke from his agony with a startled gasp. Sweat beaded and rolled down his forehead as he sat there for a moment panting. Irosane could still feel the crippling pain from the dream, but more in just a faint feeling as opposed to the crippling torment he had witnessed as he slept. There’s no rest for the wicked is there? Wait, where is....? The first thing Iro looked for was his weapons, and found them laying side by side on the ground waiting to returned to his side. With a grunt, Irosane forced himself to stand up and walk around a bit. As soon as he did so he realized that he was now clothed in some strange robes, and not only that but the whispy form of which he took was now more solid with actually features to behold. One thing that he couldn’t see was his eyes now shone a bright crimson, perfect for someone of his personality type. Leaning down and retrieving his swords from off the ground, he set the two blades together and put them at his side. Everyone else seemed to be here was well, and someone new.

As humming filled the air, Irosane turned to behold the same woman from before. The cause for everyone’s torment in this Hellish Landscape. Gritting his teeth, Iro felt all of his thoughts and emotions from the previous trial come crashing into his mind. He wanted to shout and yell at the woman, telling her none of the things that had come to pass in that recent encounter would ever have happened it she hadn’t dragged those innocent whisps here. He wanted to demand being sent back to his old life. Iro wanted to tell her all of the pain and suffering she had caused to seemingly innocent souls that did not deserve to have their life ripped from them. And yet, for whatever reason Irosane held his tongue. Merely because of the sorrow to be seen on the witches face. She, she actually cares? She carries that husk as if it’s one of her own fallen children. So, she isn’t in fact the vile witch I thought her to be. But it doesn’t justify her ripping us from our lives.

“I beg to differ on the dream. I felt no pleasure or peace with it. Only agony and torment. You claim it to be a memory, and if so then I know not why you chose to take a tormented soul straight from the bowels of hell itself.” Only one thing seemed familiar about the nightmare that had poisoned Iros sleep and that was the final phrase spoken at the end. Wether it was himself or someone else who had said it, he’d never know. As the woman made promises of an explanation, Iro couldn’t help but feel relieved as now he could finally understand his purpose here along with everyone else’s. Though he had yet to have any trust in the woman, he followed her blindly as she carried the disheveled husk.

 

[kasigi]

He felt vulnerable while asleep. It's akin to being dead. Except you're alive, completely defenseless and vulnerable to anyone outside force that could act upon you. Induced sleep is even worse. You won't wake up, even when attacked or startled. Luckily, dying in your sleep is relaxing, as you won't actually feel anything. It's that you just don't end up waking up. The force that crept into his unconscious mind were familiar and startling. Obviously, being asleep, he couldn't drown the sound out or stop it. Mordred couldn't tell if it was a dream or some sort of supernatural occurrence, but he acknowledged that there was no way to make it stop, and so, he accepted it. He relaxed himself and listened to it, the eerie, yet soothing lullaby, that would have put him to sleep if he wasn't already. He listened to what it said and tried to understand. It was peaceful and beautifully performed. Mordred wasn't too sure about the message, granted, there were some ideas.

As he listened, he felt something beckoning to him. His essence, he felt it, it wanted to make him grow. He could visualize what aspect about him he wanted to make more powerful, but he decided to restrain it, for now. He would hold onto the essence.

Then, he felt something else. He wasn't sure what it was at first, it was completely foreign to him. He could see and hear. Was it another dream? No, it was something different. It was like a vision..Mordred realized he was being shown a memory of his past. Though, he questioned why. These memories were ones that he wanted to forget and move on from, and that's exactly what he did. The person in the memory wasn't someone who he planned to be anymore. The image was cloudy. He saw himself as a younger boy, on a rainy night. He had been walking with a convoy of individuals, all carrying torches, riding on top of horse-led vehicles on a paved pathway. Another glimpse of the memory, they were no longer on the carriage, but it was still the same night. Mordred had pierced someone's chest with a blade. Then, it ended. The memory had gone so fast, he was unsure as to what exactly had occurred. Who was it that he had ended up killing, and what was his purpose for doing so? Mordred supposed that he would perhaps get more information in the future, but for now, he would just work with what he had. He just hope the live that he took was not that of an innocent individual, but of a vile person who was deserving.

Moments later, Mordred began to wake from a deep slumber, a groggy feeling washing over him. As light poured into his eyes, he squinted as they tried to adjust, staring down at his hands. He was more physical, they had transformed to be less wispy. He took a moment to recuperate and gather his senses before attempting to get up, slowly bringing himself from the ground and standing. He steadied himself in just a few moments, finding that he had already adjusted to his surroundings and felt rather lively now. The induced sleep was quite peaceful, and ended up making Mordred feel well rested and prepared after waking. Mordred had just been laying peacefully on the floor of the different room, just as he had fell asleep in the previous one. He began to examine the room. It appeared to be a bit more detailed and intricate than the last one, with various designs, a staircase, and other things that had ended up catching his eye. Then, a humming sound, which Mordred quickly turned to. He was greeted by a rather familiar form, the Goddess that they he had seen awhile ago. She mourned over an empty vessel, someone who had died. She seemed to care with a comforting motherly love, which put his mind to peace.

She spoke about the dream. So she was the one that had shown us? "It was cloudy, I'm not sure.. Perhaps, in time, I will be able to properly peace it together and come to an understanding, but my mind is clouded for now. I do hope that the one I had slain was not a common innocent." He let out a bit of a sigh, looking down at his hands. He weapon had laid next to him, which he promptly picked up, holding close to him. He watched Irosane, who did not seem very pleased with whatever the Goddess had shown him in his slumber. "It may be a punishment, for whatever reason, though variety in our memories is to be expected.." He walked as the Goddess had told him to, following behind her.

 

[seasonedcat]

Kyo seemed to be floating in darkness, not knowing where she was. All she could see was an inky blackness that stretched infinitely. She seemed to be lost, not knowing her way until her gaze caught a ball of light. With an out stretched hand she reached out and touched the cool surface of the ball. Suddenly she found herself in one of her own memories. However there was something about this memory that made it different from the ones she had seen before. No sick or ill feeling came with this one. Was this before her illness?

Kyo's question was answered as she saw her old self, eye patch free and looking healthy as any other person. The memory of herself was resting in a small hay bed that was only millimeters off the dirt floor. Shou walked into the room she was resting in with a wide smile across his tanned face. As soon as she laid eyes on him the name of this boy came easily to her thoughts despite not knowing him.

Shou crouched down and began poking Kyo, awaking her from her slumber. "Gha...?" Kyo opened her eyes to see her friend smiling down at her, "What the hell are you doing here? Are you trying to get killed?" Kyo asked annoyed as she sat up smacking the boy on the arm. "Ouch! Hey, hey calm down geeze! I came here because you got to see this!" "See what?" "Ok, ok! So I was transporting boxes, right. But, when I placed down the box I saw there was peaches in there! Ya, Peaches! Can you believe it! So, since I know he wouldn't miss a few a decided to... relieve him from some!"

"You stole from the master!" "Yes, geeze, keep it down." Shou shushed her while showing her four peaches he had in his coat, "You act like you expected better of me." He chuckled as he pulled her up, "Come on." "Fine." the two of them snuck out of the barn and made their way into one of the fields. They laughed as they plopped down on the dirt, looking at the stars. Shou handed her two of the fruits, Kyo taking them carefully in her hands.

Kyo took a big bite out of it, the new flavor filling her mouth. "Oly' Sht'!" she mumbled through a full mouth. "I know right?" Shou laughed as he began working on his own snack. After the two of them devoured the fruit in moments they fell back on the dirt and looked up at the clear sky. "I wish it could just be this... no Master to force us to work, no dirty barns to sleep in, peaches for breakfast and lunch and dinner!" Kyo whispered longingly.

"Soon it will be! One day I will save up enough money and I will free both of us! We can live together in a huge mansion, eat peaches everyday, and watch the stars! I promise you!" "Alright, It's a deal!" Kyo smiled brightly at him before jumping up. "Let's get back before we get caught, k?" she said offering him a hand, "K'." he smiled as he took the hand and stood up. "Race you there!" Kyo yelled before taking off, laughing at his angry yells at her head start.

Kyo watched as the memory faded away and she was brought back to the 'real' world. Groaning, she opened her eyes and tiredly sat up. She lazily gazed at the goddess as she spoke. So that whole monster fighting thing was not some weird dream, she was still stuck with this 'quest' to be the world's last hope. Letting out a sigh she stood up, grabbing her scythe's hilt and began sluggishly dragging it as she walked to the goddess. She had to do this so it was best to not complain.

 

[Juju]

When Niatiel's eyes opened she found herself staring up at the canopy of a bed that was much too big for her. She sat up in confusion and felt silky fur brush against her hands, which she soon realized were pelts of various animals all strewn together into a blanket. Looking around, she noticed that the rest of the room was decorated in a similar manner, the walls lined with the heads of beasts and broken weapons. Trophies. At the end of the room was a huge oaken door with an enormous banner hanging just above, the sigil a white stag rearing upon a rusty field. Its features were delicate and would perhaps be considered beautiful, if not for the three black arrows piercing cleanly through its chest. From its eyes, thin trails of blood flowed down like tears.

Nia slowly got out of bed and as soon as her feet touched the ground the oaken doors swung open to reveal a boy bearing a platter of delicate fruits. Glad to see she wasn't alone, Nia went to greet him but found that she couldn't speak. It was only then that she realized she wasn't in control. Was this a dream? Niatiel saw his shoulders tense beneath her gaze and when he entered the room his movements became stiff and unsure. Was he afraid of her?

It wasn't until he was within arm's reach, after he had placed down the food onto a table, that any words were spoken. “Leave.” a voice as cold and stern as tempered steel, a stranger’s, yet it came from Niatiel. The words made the boy flinch, causing the chain around his neck to clink merrily. Had Niatiel been there, she probably would have done the same. He opened his mouth to apologize, but when nothing came out he simply bowed then exited the room as quickly as possible.

As soon as his footsteps faded Nia's vision turned to the table, but instead of eating the breakfast she saw her hand open a drawer beneath the table and reach in. When it reemerged again it held a small box no larger than her palm. Gingerly, the lid was pried open to expose rusted gears and a time-worn crank. A music box. The engravings along its edge were faint but her fingers traced them all the same, as if recalling every etch. After a moment of staring at it, I stared at it for a while before I decided to turn the crank. Its melody was unfamiliar to Niatiel yet the melancholic notes stirred her heart as if it were a puppet on a string. It made her want to laugh and cry at the same time yet she couldn't explain why. The notes rung in her head like a bell, even as the memory faded away..

---

Nia woke up once more, but this time she was in her familiar wispy form. It was, wasn't it? She poked at her arm just to make sure and in the process discovered she was garbed in strange robes, sitting in what looked to be a temple. It was alarming, but seeing that her companions were also there gave her comfort. At least, until she noticed a few missing. "Dwynn...Vystari..." she mumbled, remembering what had happened before her slumber. Her shoulders sagged and a cloud of disappointment fell over her face. Maybe they had woken up before her?

Picking up her dagger, Niatiel slowly stood up and in doing so noticed the pale goddess. In her arms was the husk of a lifeless wisp. Nia wanted to ask if they were okay, but the look on the goddess's face answered the question for her. She smiled at them as she talked but Nia could see the pain underneath.

"Oh, it was a memory..." Nia muttered after the goddess's explanation of her 'dream'. It made sense why she couldn't control anything, but everything else didn't. Why was the boy afraid of her? Who was she? She shook her head, too tired to think about it. Nia lagged behind as the others followed the goddess, bringing her next to Kyo. "Hey Kyo, did you see Dwynn or Vystari when you woke up?" she asked, her face hopeful.

 

[Euclid Leaf]

She looked down left and right as they gathered behind her, feet ever clicking against the ground as she proceeded down one of the larger halls. It appeared to be a The Southern Passage.

"The dreams you would see should be pure... Unless, of course there was some sort of mistake in the ritual." She gazed at Irosane in scrutiny, "You made a bold choice imbibing in the blood of my old servant. Blood is a very powerful medium. It carries the breathe of life, and that of death, and change. That... thing coursing through you. I cannot do anything to separate it any longer. A curse, but a power, blood is. Beware it's twisted promise."

As Niatiel spoke to Kyo, a familiar face popped up from behind. "You mean me?"

A tall slender woman greeted her. Long wavy pink hair flowed as Vystari stepped up from around a broken pillar, the messy peachy streams held together by a series of large metal rings. She smiling wide as she held out her hand to Niatiel, soft red eyes gleaming. "Thank you, my indebted friend. I suppose that is what you are to me now. I thought I was going to die... But you saved me. I owe you everything..."

"Saved us? We didn't deserve it. We were weak." growled a very tall man, who didn't look particularly happy. Dwynn stood at least a head or two over the others, and looked admittedly a little silly in his undersized white robe. His animalistic features, the long deer-like ears, curling tail, and strange horns suggested a distinction in species. It almost seemed similar to Niatiel, in fact, but may be something else entirely. By his side was a gnarled spear that clutched to him. And he to it. The weapon seemed to share his resentment, eyes staring at Vystari with hatred and intent.

"Shut it, you fanatic. Just because you don't feel gratitude, doesn't mean I don't."

Dwynn growled at Vystari, to which she snarled back in equal spunk. The air almost burst with their conflicting emotional energy. But the Goddess quickly spoke up, turning from her warning words to Irosane.

"Yes, your souls were preserved and spared. The essence of a wisp, a fresh soul, is incredibly malleable. This is both good and poor, as this lead you to be so easily corrupted in the first place. Do no expect it to be so easy next time tragedy strikes. Take this as a learning lesson. Do not waste this wisdom, little ones. Make not enemies. The bonds you share will be the only thing you have against the fallen ones."

He snorted and stalked off to the side, swinging the black lance over his shoulder. "As you wish. I will prove myself worthy of their ill-meaning 'kindness'. But do not think I owe any of these others anything. My life is yours, and yours only, Goddess Nera."

Vystari shook her head, "So annoying... " she muttered, but quickly shifted back to her smile. The young woman looked then to Kyo and Irosane, straightening out her fluffy dress as if it somehow calmed her down more. It only seemed to get even more wrinkled. "Nice to meet you all, I am Vystari. But I'm sure you already know that. However, it only feels natural to do a proper greeting. Though I don't really know why. It just feels right."

She held her hand out to Farris too.
"Farris." the young black-haired man would say, taking it. The black ball and chain was wrapped around his right shoulder in a large, hoop. "However, I don't expect anything in return. What you owe, take it as you will. But I do not see anything. We are in this together, so we must look out for one another."

As the conversations trickled between the graduated souls, for better or worse, the grand halls seemed to open up more this part of the temple. The walls began parting more and more and they proceeded down a stepped slope that lead out to a flush of that very similar pale grass and glimmering flowers. They were outside now, but it seemed they were far above something, anything. This massive platform appeared to be a few great mounds that brushed over the temple courtyard until it circled around again, similar to a spiraling disk. All around, little bouquets of these flowers were held in tall stands, acting as natural light sources that fought against the moody red of the slit crimson sun above. It seemed a visible layer of magic protected this place of the treacherous red rays, held together by a series of wards hidden about. Beyond the ornate railings that lined the perimeter, a few parts broken and unhinged, snapped apart, was a deep deep fall into a dark cragged land. But any farther than that, was just a sea of pure darkness that consumed any sign of land or imagery.

But what marked this place more than anything, was the sea of tombstones that lined in a decorative and morose swirl. The Courtyard of Memories.

"This is the realm of dreams, and I am it's Goddess... Long ago, it was beautiful, and lush, teeming with beautiful things. But no more... Not since the world far below fell to ruin." she muttered, a tinge of bitterness in her soft voice. Nera then proceeded down to a recently dug grave. "I feel some resentment from some of you. You blame me. But know that I do not do what I do to punish you. If you think I willingly broke your soul from the cycle, then you are mistaken. Though I may have beckoned and sang to the empty divide, you all came on your own. Souls who became Lost because your purpose was forgotten long ago. You had a wish, in a sense, that was unfulfilled..."

As she said all this, she lowered the corpse into the grave and made a sign of prayer with her hands, a circular brush of the air. A marking then adorned their chest and a blessed robe washed out from it. Their skin even appeared to return to normal, pleasant to look at again. It looked like someone just sleeping. However, you all feel it is very much far from the truth.

"If you wish to remember. If you wish to forget. Whatever it is, that is your choice. This new life is yours. But remember, that it only exists so long as this world exists. By taking my brand, you became real. An anchored reality. Held together by a dream. So protect it, in return. That is all I ask."

...

 

[Siren77]

Irosane could not help but look down as the Godess spoke, a sense of fear welling up inside of him. A power, and yet a curse? What could this mean? He looked to his own hands before clenching them up. I suppose I’ll have to see for myself. Returning his head up to Nera before bowing slightly, “Forgive me, I acted irrationally in consuming the blood of the Twisted Beast. I only hope that it has not given any disgrace on me, or made any offense unto you.” It was strange, the resentment Iro initially felt toward the Godess was almost melting away. In its place was guilt in fear. The dream he had was still racking at his brain over and over again. The man did his best to put it all away from his mind, but one thing remained strong and that was the words which were thought to himself toward the end. They were familiar and yet strongly eluded his comprehension as to where their origin was. It was his own voice no doubt, but why would he say such things? Was he in pain, torment, a depression? Too many questions, he’d just have to leave it alone for now.

As he walked along with the group, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the exchange between Dwynn and Vystari. Their bickering was almost that of children, but he supposed it was better that as opposed to an insufferable anger between the two. The Godess was right, they needed to all stick together and act as allies as opposed to enemies. And yet, the more Dwynn spoke of his life being saved, the more a frown creased on Iro. Unable to hold his tongue any longer, he decided to speak his mind. “The least you could do is say thank you y’know. I don’t give a damn if you feel you didn’t deserve it, or that you don’t owe us anything. Niatiel showed more heart than any of us could’ve by trying to save your sorry ass and Vystari. I’m not expecting you to get on your knees and praise her, just say thank you. It won’t kill you, unless you really hate being a decent person.” That said, Irosane calmed himself and let his mouth rest. Wether their was consequences to his words or not, he didn’t much care. He wasn’t going to allow disrespect to an ally.

As he walked along the platform they had arrived at after leaving the South Passage, Irosane couldn’t help but gaze in awe at the world around him. Despite its rather fallen state their was still a beauty to the land. Finally his gaze fell upon the graves placed in front of him, to which a great sorrow swarmed his heart. As the Goddess performed the burial, Iro got down on his knees and said a small prayer for the fallen to have a safe passage into whatever afterlife awaited them. The words of Nera cut deep into his newly formed soul, and Iro felt the sorrow and guilt grow. Standing from where he was, he looked at the Godess with a brave stare.

“I was foolish to say unto you such harsh words and act as an ungrateful disgrace. I understand now that, although I don’t understand this place or why I’m here, you have given me a second chance from whatever life I held previously.” He placed his hand over his heart and felt the heartbeat within him. “If my destiny is to protect this place then I will with the best of my ability. I hope that you can forgive me for my foolish ways. Goddess Nera, I am your servant until the end and I will do all I can to reclaim your world.”

 

[Juju]

Niatiel whipped around at the sound of the familiar voice, a wide grin brimming on her face. "Vystari, you're alright!" She probably would have ran over to hug the woman if she wasn't so wonderstruck by her change of appearance. With long flowing hair the color of early sunset and a dress as fluffy as clouds, Niatiel couldn't help but give a soft gasp. When Vystari thanked her, Nia brought up her hands and shook her head. "Aheh, no no no. You don't owe me anything. Really! I'm just happy that you're safe. Stay that way and your, uh, debt is repayed!" she said brightly, though Vystari's words seemed to have made her uncomfortable. Something about being owed something didn't sit well with her. Trying to ignore it for now, she scratched the back of her head and gave a nervous laugh.

What began as a happy conversation soon turned sour when Dwynn spoke up and made his disapproval known. His form had changed too, but Niatiel didn't have much time to look at him before her gaze dropped to the ground. Why did he think he didn't deserve it? Shouldn't he be happy? Did she do something wrong? "Sorry..." she mumbled, her voice a whisper compared to the heated argument. Fortunatly the goddess stepped in and the argument was broken up before it could get worse, and Irosane confronted Dwynn. Nia watched the exchange with wide eyes, a little scared that another argument would break out, but mostly surprised at how readily Irosane stood up for her. She was thankful for it. It made her feel safe.

That's why when Irosane declared his alliegence, Nia was the first to back him up. “And me! I want to help too!’ A determined gleam shone in her eyes as they turned to the goddess. “Don’t worry Nera, we will save your… our world!”