HUBRIS

[Dymase 270]

Spoiler

https://youtu.be/eiVXN9cockw?si=HZmRBOmKRF7eU2rr

 

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Hubris. The one crack in the Spellblade’s armor. Hubris was what had spurred him to ride with Caurósian forces. To lend his blade while his mind was elsewhere, thinking of plots beyond the squabbling of Canonists, the schisms of Humans. Hubris was what allowed his neck to be hooked, for his body to be pulled from his horse - what allowed his head to strike rock as he clattered to the ground. 

 

Hubris, the thing that was shattered as he was dragged to safety by a faceless Praeven’tir, only to be deposited somewhere out of sight, out of mind. Hubris was what made him think he would be able to mend his cracked skull, heal his severed nerves - to be made whole again. 

 

The journey to sanctuary was a much more arduous one than he was used to. Alikos’s pride kept him from asking for directions to Aevos’s Western shores, forcing himself to stumble through a haze of bright whites, blurred greens, and murky blues. He knew the way well enough. His struggle simply permitted him to not have to think about just how he intended to rectify his dilemma. 

 

Eventually, Alikos managed to pull himself aboard his vessel, armor caked in muck and mire, hands flailing wildly in search of any familiar rope, ledge, or barrel. He trudged laboriously to his cabin, the door swinging open as he crumpled into an exhausted heap just beyond the entryway.

 

How could he fix this? It would not be as simple as slapping in a new set of eyes - And even if he could, how could he expect to perform such a delicate operation on himself, much less with such a disability? He had nobody. No one to call out to, nobody he knew he could trust not to make things worse. 

 

This was his fault. How could he have been so stupid? So arrogant? The prospect of killing Balianites, Haensers, was it truly worth the risk? And what of the price he found himself paying? The man’s hands balled to fists, a cold malice coursing through him. He wanted to scream, to pound his fists into the floor, to break everything around him until his own bones shattered.

But he could not.

 

His Hubris had finally caught up with him. All he could do was succumb to his torpor.

 

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He stood then upon a sea of inky black which stretched for miles, only broken with the occasional dark tower forcing itself up from below the surface. A kaleidoscope of abyssal greens and yellows spun in the sky above. The air was still, yet the water moved with some strange current. The once-lord’s ears only picked up distant whispers and moans from some unseen place within this realm. His stomach churned with anticipation, trepidation. He could not tell if he had been standing there for mere minutes, or hours.

 

Suddenly, he witnessed a shift upon the horizon. The miasma of those accursed hues cracked and split, giving way to some great shape, its outer protrusions sharp and wild, almost like tendrils. Within the center of the mass opened a singular eye, its iris glowing with the same green of its surrounding haze. Alikos could do nothing else but stare into it, his breath taken from him. 

 

A low rumble sounded from the distance, the waves about him beginning to churn with vigor as Alikos just watched, frozen in place, the words which emanated from that Black Sun reverberating to his very core.

 

 

 

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"Augur. The Smothered Spark. The Prodigal Knight. You have been away for FAR too long."

 

"My people have strayed from their faith, falling for promises left unkept, allowing their knowledge to stagnate and wane. The city that you once so faithfully constructed now lies in ash, its denizens cast out and in need of a True shepherd."

 

"The time for Diplomacy has passed. This is war. The Fire that you once clinged so tightly to has given way to Darkness; EMBRACE IT."

 

"Walk in it. Listen to it. Learn from it. FEAR it, and the Dark shall be your ally."

 

"Don your visor. Embrace its shadow, and what was taken shall be returned."

 

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Alikos awoke, lying on his back in the middle of a forest, its trees stretching high into the air, his surroundings darkened by the thick canopy of foliage above. His armor, still caked in blood and filth, felt stiff; his helm was skewed atop his head. 

 

Slowly, an arm creaked forth to adjust the steel façade, and just as he succeeded, all movement ceased. His breath quickened, his mind beginning to race with confusion - But then a stillness overcame him. A resolve. He knew what he must do.

 

╚═══━━━─── 𓁺 ───━━━═══╝

 

[BoyWonderr 346]

epic

 

[Turbo_Dog 3567]

Spoiler

That’s my captain!