The Gaze of the Apostles

Chapter 11: All Rise

"How pretty..." slurred Aishwarya like a seasoned drunk. At the base of the mountain, she laid in a puddle of water that mirrored the canvas of mint green that was sky. Her scarlet eyes were fixated on a misshapen aquamarine marble that gently quivered in the air-the focal point of the ensemble.

For Mara, what fills their body is the very thing that fills their hearts. The unadulterated, unceasing howling of the abyss. The empty, yet cacophonous swash of entropy as it utterly drowns you out. When slain, the discordant knot in space it creates simply returns to equilibrium, yet, nothing of that magnitude simply disappears.

As it returns to nothingness, a singular, nacreous offal spews forth, a Mara core. Often a core commands a silent respect, or fear, as one grasps the remnants of a beast in their hand....for others the core is a symbol of victory, a testament to their skill in battle. This core however brought a strange allure, a radiance of a genesis.

Something else now, had snatched her interest from the coloured core.

Amorphous darkness.

Perhaps it could be compared to the consequence of a careless calligrapher who applied too much pressure to his brush...or the mishap of a writer who knocked over her well of ink.

"Ew."

From the two-dimensional blotch emerged a hand that was donned in a weathered rubber glove. It caught the core and admired it, containing the gem between their thumb and middle finger. Just as quickly as the jewel appeared from the drapes of stratus, it disappeared into the palm of a shameless newcomer.

"Now what-"

Splish splash splish splash~

"I can't move my neck....just tell me who you are."

"Ay calm yuhself or else the healing spell won't work. You're completely out of aura and you've got multiple fractures, honestly I'm just surprised you're still conscious."

"Your diagnosis is on point, Mariah, even if it's a bit harsh. You did a wonderful job, Aishwyria."

"Thanks dude."

"Aunt Charlotte to you....gosh...and besides, gratitude should only be expressed when one is thankful for a favour...I'm merely saying that your performance was spectacular."

"Ugh."

"Hmph!"

"What's that thing up there."

"We've only just arrived darling..."

"Mkay...what about tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber? Have they sorted it out their issues?"

"So you do have a soft side... well...."

As Baskara plummeted miles above the core, the sound of something mystifying danced in the gently swirling air, something that only be described as an experience that leaves you emptier than when you started. Each note was light, clear, and haunting; ringing in a calm yet erratic tone, contradicting the maelstrom just prior. The sound was reminiscent of a metallic wind chime, complemented with the low murmur of strings that invited in a moment of reflection.

The unassuming, black window that once hung in the sky was slit open by a slender blade; As it was, the orchestra grew as well, its harmonies being fleshed out by a soft, alien whistle.

With impressive speed, it tore through the sky. Previously indifferent clouds hurried into place as they bordered the inky swathe, and on contact, they transformed into a marvelous opalescence. Like a vulture unveiling its wings, it was all too reminiscent of a burgeoning mara.