In the far land of Asxairo, off the distant ruins of the Rovien Sea lives a damnation to the kingdoms. She is something beyond the great bounds of the ancestors and the Gods. She is an unstoppable force and she has a mission to complete.
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Proaeto bu'rx daedae, oaek daedae. Ik v'rr lorv vai goor dokkou." Soft, scarred hands caressed a beaten face, blood and scars masking the gorgeous woman's features, strands of brown hair falling across her cut brows.
The poor woman coughed into her red hands, holding on to a thin handkerchief clutched in her loose grip. "Tlouo 't ra lavo rogk gau do" the woman whispered back to her daughter, reaching up with her hand to gently brush away the dark strands of hair that covered her ever-curious eyes.
"No, don't say that. There is always hope" Alesandria spoke, flickers of light dancing inside her watery orbs. Her lips were pulled down into a thin line, clumps of hair falling in front of her gaunt face. Long, bony fingers held a crafted bowl of vegetable soup and a spoon, carefully feeding her mother with what she hoped would cure her.
A throaty laugh escaped out of Parcia's lips, dry and dying as her moment of happiness was short lived. An irritating itch crawled up her throat, exploding in her lungs as a cough escaped her pruned lips.
Spots of blood tainted the silk handkerchief, a burning desire to throw her insides out crawling out and all over her body. A sigh left Alesandria's lips, her sad eyes looking on as her mother relaxed her head back on the pillow on the floor, her eyes still swollen and closed from the attack.
The house was relatively empty, Eros still sleeping in what was left of his bedroom upstairs while Onyx had decided to venture out into the still dark outside world, not bidding a goodbye before she left.
It had been three days since the attack. Three days since Parcia was viciously attacked and left for dead at the foot of her own doorstep. Three days since both Onyx and Alesandria almost lost their lives.
Damn those three days.
A lot has happened after that. The house, once supposed to be a pride and comfort and protection of any harm's way now chipped away into pieces, long slabs of wood and bricks slowly chipping off with each rustle of the wind. Debris of glass, dirt, and blood littered the floor, strewns of torn fabric of clothing and flesh coating the floors.
The strange, metallic stench of blood still lingered in the air, the aroma of burned dead bodies growing heavier like a thick fog that hung over the crumbling house.
It has been a long painful three days, taking care of Parcia and Eros while Onyx conjured up a plan to help not only her mission but her family as well. It seemed as if all hope had disappeared into thin air, leaving nothing but ruins in its wake.
Onyx had suggested visiting Castrin again, knowing he was the only one in this whole damned kingdom that didn't run away, screaming "Bloody Murder" every time his eyes laid upon Alesandria. He was a smart guy and he knew her better than anyone else.
Yet even though it seemed like a good plan, the thought of disrupting the Dark Magic Summoner for her own weak and unpurposeful needs struck the village girl, leading her to deny the idea before it was even spoken to its full extent.
