Through The Cracks

[Arkelos 1027]

((Listen for added effect.))

The water was still, wind brushing across the wheat outside Syrila’s window. She watched, quietly twisting a lock of hair in her fingers as she surveyed her small bit of reclaimed land. Something had been tugging at her heart lately, she wasn’t sure what, it had gotten better when she had torn apart the hideous box of a house that had been here before, but something else was still off. The land still cried out for her, it called for her loving embrace, the animals of the land she wandered upon stampeded as Syrila looked around, confused.

With a sigh, the half breed stood, brushing her hair back with her hands as she walked along the carpeted floor. Syrila nudged the door open with a foot as she tied it back, setting her hands on her hips as she looked about. The place she had chosen felt right, but somehow it was not. A sudden thundering of hooves broke the silence, a piercing scream ripping through the air as a thin slip of an elf ran across the yard, a bundle of wheat held over her head. A massive herd of cattle thundered after her, bellowing loudly as they chased.

“I think they like you Rekenara!” Syrila laughed jokingly. The elf twisted and bounded along, dodging cruel horns and hooves as they sliced the air, vying to capture the golden prize in her fingers. It was hard to believe the tiny thing used to be a young noblewoman, trained by a master archer. Memories wiped clean, she was now Syrila’s loyal and much loved servant, only knowing her and the tiny patch of land they resided upon.

Rekenara twisted, tossing out bits of wheat to the huge bovines as they bore down upon her, teeth grinding as their eyes turned pink and they paired together, trotting off with a newly formed calf between them. The land here was fertile, animals and plants flourished wonderfully, the ground beneath was rich in ore and fine gems, the forests thick with strong wolves that were found to be friendly and willing to walk alongside them.

But still..

something was amiss...

still...

that echoing cry...

Syrila gave a sharp whistle, smiling as Rekenara twisted in the middle of her jump to face her. The elf paused a moment before running to her, jumping the fence with a wide grin. She lifted a hand, waving as she ran, mouth opening to call out a greeting.

Rekenara’s voice was drowned out by a loud rumbling, a look of fear flashing across her face as the earth cracked and crumbled beneath her. Syrila reached out, trying to grasp the elf’s hand, but the earth beneath the house shuddered and gave way, collapsing the wooden arch on top of her. Rekenara’s scream echoed in Syrila’s head as her mind went black.

Syrila’s body had fallen to the deepest depths of the world, her bones all but broken, but any signs of life... had vanished.

To Be Continued

[Aislin 4354]

((Awesome!))

[Zarsies 6795]

[[ Awwhhhhwwwaaaaa~ ]]

[Dat Burkester 101]

((Wow that was really good read! Vardak I didn't know you were such a good writer, keep up the good work.))

[DecoLamb 959]

((Wow that was really good read! Vardak I didn't know you were such a good writer, keep up the good work.))

I wrote it for him..]]

[Swgrclan 2682]

I wrote it for him..]]

Well done then, Deco. <3))

[Arkelos 1027]

Syrila had been laying on the hard ground for a while now as the frightened Rekenara looked down at the ruins of the home. Syrila had not moved as Rekenara called out for her, another tremor stuck as more rubble shook from the building, blood pooling near Syrila’s mouth as she twitched.

“Mis... Mistress?” Rekenara called out. There was no response, Syrila’s body continued to twitch in the silence that filled the air.

“Mistress?!” Rekenara cried out in a panic, tears streaming from her face as Syrila laid there, motionless.

Syrila had died. This was her judgement? The maw of the world called for her life to end like this?

Or was it a facade, an illusion of the mind meant to bend and break the parallels of this world to show you what wasn’t meant to happen, yes Syrila had died here. But a rebirth was happening inside her, She was merely resting in deep death, in a pool of her blood.

Judgement was far from death.

Syrila opened her eyes to see the darkness, it wasn’t Asulon she was seeing, but what seemed to be her life flashing behind her as she walked by each bit. From Syrila’s encounter with Belyn at Ravenhold back in Aegis, from Syrila killing her mother and taking her life. Every last scene played in her head like a movie playing a story of her life to her, the only able viewer. As it reached the end, Syrila had broken down in tears, seeing her last moments play in what seemed to be slow motion...

It wasn’t slow motion, it wasn’t a play for her to rewrite. This was all her life, her triumphs and hardships, her memories and constant reminders of her dark past. The one thing she wanted to escape.

The memories stopped playing in her head as a ring of steel appeared in front of her, Syrila went to it and touched the flame wrought steel curiously. Instantly Syrila jolted back as the steel caught fire. The wring of flame moving slowly to a formation that Syrila had not seen, never in her life had she seen this weird runic symbol. A matrix of runes Symbolizing the struggle of life and death. The steel wrought magicked runes shrank in size as the curious halfbreed looked in awe of it’s glory, it’s majesty.

Before Syrila could touch it one last time, it vanished. Looking back as she saw HER. The only enemy she had ever made...

Herself. No. Kyral... the exact opposite of Syrila, where there was good in Syrila, there was darkness in Kyral. There was no replacing the void made by each of their presence.

The awkward silence lasted merely seconds before Kyral roared in a bloodlust filled fury, lunging at Syrila with her Claw like fingers. Syrila could anticipate the rage fueled beast as she stepped aside with great speed, slamming her hand into Kyral’s neck with a loud thud.

Kyral glared and roared, in a now pained fury, Syrila didn’t do the expected damage to her as she then called out for her battle scythe Sur’sureth. The diamond bladed scythe with Golden jagged edges howled in a fury as Syrila glared at the Bestial form of wrath, advancing with the scythe tucked under her left shoulder.

Kyral glared at the weapon, growling as she called for her weapon, the smell of rotting flesh permeating the air as Kyral took out the opposite to Sur’sureth, where there was precious ore, there was Flesh and bone, carved from beasts in the spirit realm. Syrila made her move upon Kyral quickly in an attempt to disarm her. Locking her scythe with Kyral’s as sparks flew from each side.

Kyral roared in Syrila’s face as if to taunt the near dead Syrila, but Syrila would not take it... she would not die on this day, using her strength, Syrila lifted Kyral up by her scythe, both of their weapons still locked together as Syrila dropped her scythe to the ground. Kyral on her scythe fell to the floor with a loud thud.

“This is it...” Syrila muttered to herself as she ran hurriedly to the Corrupted battle scythe, taking the weapon in her other hand as she ripped cloth from her clothing and bound the weapons to form a makeshift Halberd. Syrila lifted it with ease as Kyral looked at her weapon.... Rage once again consuming her as Syrila tucked the new weapon under her shoulder, advancing and circling the beast.

Kyral roared at Syrila, this time Syrila roared louder as she began to hack away at the beast, spinning the Halberd in a fury as the words to her song reverberated though her head like a long forgotton melody.

ROAR

It’ll make you Stronger!

ROAR

When you Feel you can no longer

FIGHT

No matter whats against you will

WIN

against the rising Tide of

BLOOD

That lust is in your Veins, grasp it now before hope wanes!

Syrila went to make the Coup de grâce, the killing blow, but before she could do it, a pained look drew across her face, replacing the former grin. something was bothering her body as Kyral took this chance to escape.

Outside from Syrila’s mind, Rekenara had made it down to Syrila’s still twitching body. A rebirth had happened, a fight continued within her mind was the ashes from which she would rise again. But for now She will rest.

To be continued.

[steelersfan1221 300]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.