THAT ILLUSION || Chasing the call of the chasm.
Earth is haunted, and they have come to save the earthlings before it's too late.
The Narngon school of magic is the only source of remedy for this silently perishing world. The trio of infamous queens...
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━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━ ..ACERVŌ..
(verb) amass, to multiply, heap or to pile up. ━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━
"Where on the holy paths am I?"
Her weak hollers crept out of her clenched teeth. Her once gentle morganite lips strutted to keep her warmth clasped. The shards of frost thickened her skin, wakening her invisible pili.
She grabbed the shady cloak dancing ludicrously amidst the perturbing melee of the stealthy winds. Wrapping her frosting skin while musing about the very cloak that she never remembered to have bought within herself, she crouched upon the imperceptible thick smoking grounds. She had hidden her every piece of flesh, keeping her wispy ears open enough to caution her.
Where the hell did I land? Who did trap me here? Her thoughts ran an endless race. Slowly she lifted her curled red-raven lock teasing her face and looked around for some clues. Even the feeble clue would be enough for her eidetic senses to wield a plan for an escape. But not before she found out where she was. She peeked out of the parting slits as she moved her palms to the sides.
Before her eyes could perceive the surroundings, a spout of unburnt raven vapours invaded her sight, making her cough and close her lids within a flick. She opened her pursed eyes once her sudden shudders were calmed as she kneaded her palms to birth some embers of heat, accurate enough not letting them kiss her bland yet bettering cloak. Dusting off some chillness with her new warmth, she opened her eyes braced with a hope to retrieve a clue.
Three-uh... Two-uh... One... I'm steady and secure, she ensured while pressing her damp palms over her frigid temples. She felt some chilling panes over her creases. Her abrupt shrugging released the frigid ices levelling the crease crusts with palm troughs.
Why on holy paths are these ebonic? Her ruby eyes observed the chipped bits.
See-through it! Sense it! Her rattling senses perched.
They loudened as her glances grew into gazes. The choking whines made her heart shriek for a slain truce. She protested to keep her focussed over the watery dews dribbling on her skin, tracing every turn and twist of her angelic petite frame.
When she was pondering over the sliding pale wetness and the freezing raven sheets wafting her skin, a faint burning over her heels caught her attention. She looked through the healing pain of the purple-black bruises.
Bizarre! She worried as she kept her palms over the burns. She gently caressed them and decided to reveal the mystery behind the amoebic purplish patch.
'Uncoveriy itep. Truthft reveyalo.' (Uncover it. Reveal the truth.)
The moment she decreed, a feeble glint of silver shine erupted from her bruises and took a shape of a speared brush to paint the cause on the bland blanket. As the tips ran, crafting her forgotten anguish and pains, the endless run on the maze of raven storms and panting breaths amidst the frozen scarlet blooms, her eyes recalled every ounce of it.
