𝙷𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚎𝚝𝚑 {𝓒𝓲𝓮𝓵 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻}

Chapter 6|IN DESTRUCTION, REBIRTH.

❝The Night Passed - A Night Of Vague Horrors - Tortured Dreams.❞

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   CLOUDS SWIRL, PUFFING TO SMOKE as you pass through. Below waves a deeper cerulean than the skies. Reaching over to fork fingers through the tresses of their tips before they splash back to foamy seas. Land ho and farther still. Only when you fly through breezes that flow through your hair and the holes in your clothing do you notice a village far from sea.

There, you see a babe born with the fate of all stars written in her glowing eyes. Flashing first the images of swirling waves, wretched men, and a king anew. Proven by the hour.

In an instant, she grows. And like a showman to a freak show, known by all and begging for only a look or touch. Throwing gold her guardians' way for a mere glimpse or chance to rewrite their stars.

Until she grew to calloused fingers and feet, bending as though water, skating on ice, every swing her enemies way a waltz of life and death. As though spindrift brought to life.

With eyes the glow of silver stars, shown as though a full moon. Ears wolflike, her touch granting good luck, and a drive unrivaled, she led many storms to pass unto sunshine until water clearer than marines came forth and brought rest to the lands.

Reaching over, all is white. Yet, splotches of shadow begin to grow like mold. Blinking to find yourself turning to a mirror. There you find the very girl who achieved so much in so little time.

Your eyes widen, and you look around to find yourself in the cramped room of a wooden shack. Gems and herbs hang from the ceilings and walls. Through the mirror, you find a bed of thin materials and whirl around.

You were certain this was not your home, but then, where were you?

In fact, you take another look at your clothing and find yourself in a sort of armor unlike you have ever seen. The pendant you were gifted is pinned to the front of a cape that hangs from your right shoulder.

You slide your hand beneath it, a tiny gem twinkling when it shifts. Although you hadn't a clue where you were, your eyes were drawn to the dresser just beside the mirror. There, sat orderly atop a decorative blanket, were a few letters in a familiar font. Looking them over, you read about your position from a friend. A knight on standby, retiring to a small village until further notice.

The hardships the village faced when trying to attain a priest who only came under rich conditions they could hardly afford with the understanding you would be the king's eyes.

That all must come through you.

If that hadn't concerned you, the next line did.

..with the way your authority undermines them, I fear the church won't take this lying down...

Your eyes narrow, a moth fluttering through your mind before settling on the light of a cased torch. Brown wings staring you down right before the flame ignites it.

Fluttering its wings one last time, it falls and fades to ashes.

You're nowhere now—a blank, space.

A man appears dressed in minister robes, eyes bulging as he backs away and strikes you with a wet substance. Your brows furrow, and you look down to find some clear liquid dripping from your face.

Holy water.

Before you could ask him what was wrong or why he did so, you gasped.

Serpents burst from your chest, destruction born from within, you breathe again.