The Hallowed War: Prophesy of Ruin

Chasing Flames

When morning came around Theon woke to see the rest of the group huddled around the resident Druid. She was being helped up by Kyomi, the half elf keeping her steady on her feet. Phammaxia looked tired from her spot beside them on the ground. A series of vials lay empty next to her, a mortar and pestle with residue of some green stuff on it were being wiped off by the sral.

The others appeared to be better rested, most of their wounds while still present seemed to already be healing properly. Maunkein was bruised all over but judging by the blank expression as he kept poking them he probably wasn't hurting too bad.

"Maunkein, you're in charge of keeping an eye on Dusty. Phammaxia, you did a great job, she's looking better already." Kyomi stated, looking over their previously wounded and poisoned comrade.

Shrugging, the sral waved off the thanks as she put everything away.

"No big deal, just had to circle back to the dead spider and harvest some of the original venom. The rest you're lucky I already had, otherwise you'd be walking around at half your usual strength for a few hours longer, or dead... Huh, good thing you're not allergic to anything I used actually, extra lucky for you huh?"

"I could have died!?" Screeched Dusty, her voice cracking midway through the sentence as she fixated her ally with a panicked look.

"Noooooo... maybe? But you didn't. And that's what matters." The sral said with a not so gentle smack on the back of the still shaky gnome.

"Enough of that, we're glad that there were no complications. Now, let's get this show on the road alright? Pyrrhic, summon up those horses will ya?"

Sighing, the mute member of the party silently took the black lantern from its place at their hip. Lighting the flame inside they channeled their magic and called for the Dreamweaver's power. Watching them, Theon couldn't help but be curious. Awe is a deity, a literal god with paladins and clerics yet here was Pyrrhic, a warlock leeching off their power rather than worshiping and devoting themselves to it. Perhaps it's due to the nature of their deal, strength for a promise they can't break rather than unconditional devotion but it's still an odd relationship in the wild mage's eyes. He'll never understand the inner workings of deities he supposes.

From a burst of crimson flame five steeds emerged, their obsidian skin and flaming manes quickly replaced with the appearance of regular horses. Getting on them, some of the group members had to share. Fortunately for him, Theon didn't have to share this time.

'Kyomi said we would get there in about 20 hours so get ready for a long ride because I'm not resumoning them again if we dismount.' Said Pyrrhic through their telepathic bond, the comment was aimed at Theon who passed it onto the rest.

The others simply groaned at the idea of sitting on a horse for so long, surely their ass would go numb midway through this journey. But sucking it up, they set off. Dusty riding with Maunkein, Ronnie on her shoulder happily squeaking at her as if in conversation. Her energy seemed to be returning slowly but at least she seemed better than the previous night. Gin rode behind Kyomi, his tail nearly dragging on the ground and forcing him to curl it around himself as they rode to avoid accidentally spooking the horse. Ahead of the rest, Occi and Pyrrhic were together, Theon couldn't quite make what they spoke of but Solaris's name came up more than once.

Theon couldn't help the smile that came to him, he couldn't really help it. He remembers what it was like to be infatuated, the giddy feeling of spending time with the one that holds your heart, the feeling of being in the clouds when they smile or call your name. He doesn't fault the changeling for falling so fast, Solaris IS a beautiful woman with her short red hair and burning orange eyes but it is a bit of a shock that she'd consider pursuing love once more. Especially after what she lost, Theon surely couldn't. Still caught up in the past as he was, not even able to discuss his loss beyond vague mentions. When's the last time he said her name beyond mournful cries in the throes of sleep?