Xelqua Rising || The Lost One AU

7.Illusionary

The male Great Watcher sucked in a large breath, letting it go slowly. It came as a strong gust of wind, bits of purple sparks mixed in to show that this breath had magic wound up in it. The purple particles started to join together in front of Grian. A frozen mimic of himself appeared right in front of his very eyes. The human leapt to his feet and started to move around, trying to see if it was three dimensional. Was it really a copy of him, or just an illusion? It seemed real, but the closer Grian got to it, the further it seemed to go.

The illusion suddenly began to move in place, a rectangular background appearing behind him. It all looked so incredibly real, but it must just be made of magic somehow. The scene was given a rather odd angle, and a changing one at that; as though it was being shown from someone else's eyes. The real Grian stopped moving, allowing himself to stare at what the Great Ones were showing him.

The fake Grian seemed to be running, darting through the halls of a dark building at night. He wore his signature green tunic with his matching hat, almost triangular in shape. He held the hat with one hand, trying to keep it on his head. Blood was splattered on the side of it, dripping onto his hair. In his other hand, he held a sword. The illusion slid to a stop, having hit a dead end. His head turned wildly, panic clear on his face, chest rising and falling rapidly. Such emotion hinted at the possibility of a hardcore world in which no respawn existed.

An arrow flew seemingly out of nowhere and penetrated his side. His mouth opened as the hand holding his hat quickly went to hold his side instead. He looked as though he was letting out a scream, but there was not even a whisper to be heard. He sucked in a breath before scaling the wall towards the air vent, his hat sliding off his head, ignoring the red prints he was making on the wall with his own blood. He could not go back for the cap, that was certain.

The true Grian stood there and watched the scene unfold. He understood that the Great Ones were showing him what they knew, but... this couldn't be real, could it? There was no way that he was ever in such a terrible, live-threatening situation and just merely forgot about it... right?

The fake managed to start to pull himself up inside the vent using his upper body strength, but just as he brought one of his legs up into it, a bloodied hand reached up and grabbed onto his other heel, onto his brown boot. Panicking even more now, he started to kick his leg wildly, trying to break free of the hand's grasp. He somehow managed to shake off his boot, causing the hand to fall to the ground, although it was not shown.

The blonde illusion brought his other leg up now into the vent and started to crawl, wincing and trying not to cry in pain. Blood had quickly soaked through his tunic around the sword in his side and now dripped onto the vent, leaving a trail. There was nothing he could do, so he continued on without stopping. He turned a few corners before he paused, peering at the room below. He pushed the grate down, allowing it to fall to the ground. The illusion flinched -- the action had probably made a lot of noise. Without any further hesitation, he jumped down into the classroom, collapsing onto the ground.

The real Grian winced; the illusion had fallen quite far down. None of this was easy to watch. Every part of his body begged him to look away, to not watch this nightmare. Yet, he knew that he must, and so he did.

The illusion scrambled to his feet and headed to the door, limping noticeably now. He quickly found the wall, holding it with the hand that was still clutching the sword rather unskillfully. His other hand held his side, where the arrow still laid inside of him. Deep red liquid had now cascaded down the side of his trousers, pouring out of him. He slid the classroom door open, quickly scanning the hallway with his eyes before continuing onwards.

A few pools of blood laid in the hallway, but he paid them no mind. It was clear that he was trying to hurry, but in his current state he was not going all that fast. His head was on a swivel, looking out for whoever it was that had it out for him. He continued on for about a minute, before he froze in place. Had he heard something? Whatever it was, it drained whatever color was left on his face. He turned around and ran back, almost collapsing to the ground with every other step. He slid to a stop at the nearest classroom and threw the door open.