Her assuagement was short-lived. A fleeting flash of solace softening the discomfort on her face as
Faulkin stepped forward. Then he stopped, and her gaze glistened as it shifted back and forth between them. She understood immediately that the only reason he'd have stopped like that was if he trusted her safety. That would likely have settled her again had it not been for the almost tangible darkness that crept in around them just as it did in her own mind even on the brightest of days. Her heart pounded in her chest and she looked back to Itae-O'mel with a single nod.
This female knew. She had answers, but it didn't stop Yvaine from fearing what those answers were. She drew in a shaky breath as she tried to prepare herself for whatever she was about to face. This fear was her challenge and her demon to slay, and it would continue to besiege her until she did, unannounced and ghastly. Facing it was the only way forward, to demand solutions instead of this maddening, circling anxiety. So though it felt as though her body had no more strength, she still had the option to remain still and be quiet enough to choose how to fight.
She stared at Itae-O'mel's hand as though it were some clawed thing about to tear painfully into her mind, allowing more of the darkness to flood in. Another look at Faulkin bolstered what little bravery she had left, and hesitantly, she reached to accept the contact she'd been offered.
The connection was instant, vivid and
loud. Yvaine's eyes snapped shut and squeezed tightly as she gripped the woman's hands for something to anchor her to this place, so clear were the visions that she feared she'd already been transported. Those whispers mingled with screams of fear and terror as flames engulfed
towns and
settlements, where the dead piled up and dark beasts feasted on their remains. Yvaine gasped in fright, and the monstrous creatures turned to look at her with snarling maws of dripping blood. Her hands gripped tighter to those she held, and she pushed the fear away.
The vision shifted, pulling her through miles and miles of dark and twisted forests, through smoke and ash and flame in the span of a few seconds. That word,
Aeraesar, once again whispered in her mind as she now stood at the edge of the forest. Ahead of her was a city in the mountain and between them a vast wasteland of rot and ash. She didn't have to be told that this was Aeraesar. She simply knew, and something drew her toward it, and as she walked, the ground around her healed, leaving a river of sprouting green and reaching saplings in her wake. The decaying city before her seemed to rebuild, falling back through time until it once again stood proud and alive.
That pull in her chest was warm, the urgent whispers grew fainter, more soothing, beckoning her through the gates and up the stone steps.
Elves stopped to smile at her, lifting their hands in silent salute as she passed them. Across the square and into the great halls, the path through the keep that led to the room where the forge stone stood surrounded by robed elves. When she approached, they parted for her, once again offering her warm smiles but saying nothing.
The light of the stone was brilliant. She felt its power radiate into her very bones, and she breathed deeply as she reached out to place a hand over it. Warmth spread through her palm and pulsed through her, but in an instant everything shifted once more. The stone cracked, and the elves that surrounded it lay dead or dying, some hung on the walls like garish works of art. The screams echoed around the chambers, and Yvaine turned to run.
The throne room that she'd just walked through was no longer warm and welcoming. It was scorched and crumbling, and the thick scent of blood and decay filled the air. And on the throne sat a creature the likes of which her mind couldn't fathom. He was a nightmare personified, and he stared right at her. Again she turned with the intention of fleeing this place, though from the gaping hole in the courtyard climbed a fiery beast, roaring fire into the putrid air and stretching out her gargantuan wings.
Yvaine froze, feeling her heart pound against her ribs in effort to flee and save itself a more painful end. The infernal creature stalked forward, and Yvaine muttered a quiet plea for this to stop. She watched it shrink as it moved, its form shifting with ease into that of a horned woman who now skipped playfully toward her, humming a childlike melody. She stopped in front of Yvaine, and smiled.
'Look Arki... Someone new to play with.'
Yvaine frowned and drew in a breath, but before she could say anything, the demoness reached out to grip her throat. Pain seared through her and she screamed, pulling her hands free of the
elven woman's grasp and tumbling back out of the vision and onto the ground, an angry burn in the shape of a handprint on her neck.
