𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐍 ━━━ ✧ ⋆ （ acotar ）

✧ ˚ 𝐱𝐱𝐯. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮

✧ ˚ 𝑭𝑳𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑺 𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑬𝑫 𝑨𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫 𝑯𝑬𝑹, 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑺𝑬𝑺 𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑶𝑭 scorched flesh and molten blood. The ceaseless screaming of tortured souls drowned out the heartbeat she knew would be thundering in her ears otherwise. Everywhere she looked, each direction she faced: devastation, sufferingㅡ

Death.

Corpses burned beyond recognition, limbs mangled and cut from their bodies strewn in countless piles around her. She stepped backwards, trembling as she attempted to escape from the scene before her. But there was a crunch beneath where her heel landed, and she drew away in an instant.

You believe you can stop this, Realm Walker.

Another corpseㅡor so she thought at first. This one was still alive.

Brutalized, shredded wings lay in tattered pieces behind them. Strange, red stones lined the arm that weakly rose towards her, with a natural glow that was slowly fading out with each second that passed. Their lips, pale yet bloodied, were moving, mouthing soundlessly. Her name, she realized, andㅡ

Help me.

You believe you can save them all.

She was kneeling by their side in a blur of white and gold, but the moment she touched their hand, desperate to save the one sign of life in this desolate, war-ravaged wasteland, their body burned to ash. She cried out, falling backwards and scrambling away as nausea swam its way into her gut, threatening to expel the night's supper.

I see that hope in you.

The wasteland fell away into a dark, stone room. Barren, if not for the large cauldron that centered it, made of the darkest of iron. The dread that consumed her being only intensified at the sight of it.

Something bobbed in the water. Hands shaking, she slowly began stepping closer to the vast cauldron, spurred on by the desperation that tugged at her soul. The room began to shake with each step she grew nearer, that dread within her growing in tandem with the strength of the vibrations threatening to knock her off her feet.

I know it burns brighter than any of your sky's stars.

A particularly violent tremor sent her stumbling over the iron. Phantom pain struck her ribs, but she was frozen, veins turned to ice as her gaze locked onto the object in the water. Not an objectㅡhair. Dark, and gleaming like a raven's feathers.

I sense how desperate you are to deliver your loved ones from the pain they are suffering, the pain they will suffer still.

She knew that hair, but denial runs thick. It is a shock absorber for delicate souls, and protects us until we are equipped to deal with reality. The reality that, even as she reached forward, her hands trembling as the room crumbled into nothing around her, she had already guessed what she would find.