SCOURGE.

ACT I. COMPOSURE: PART I. THE DRUID OF YOMOTSU

"Hearken, my children!

That which we've so yearned for is nigh.

My soul shudders by its weight.

With open arms do we beseech it.

We stand at the foot of His holy ziggurat, our crusade near end!"

-Sermon given by the Apostles of He

Under the cover of night, the cloaked figure marched wistfully along that cobblestone path that weaved through the clearing and up to the ebony gates of the Capital City. Brilliant, cerulean eyes glimmered from beneath her hood, and flowing, black hair was tucked into the cloak's collar. The woman's skin was so pale that it appeared luminous in the darkness. A mournful expression was painted on her face, and as she grew closer to the city's gates, her pace quickened with determination. Suddenly, a light emerged from within the cloak and rose up through her collar, perching itself on her shoulder and taking the form of her nymph familiar, Minithe.

"Y'know, I think I could really make a career in comedy," the nymph said, unwarranted.

The woman was immediately disgruntled, as these types of interruptions had been of extreme frequency during her expedition. She responded dismissively, "It wasn't the time or place three hours ago, and it won't be three hours from now. Please return to your bottle."

The nymph dismissed this as well. "I was thinking observational comedy. I'm a good 'observer.' I do like to observe," she nodded to herself.

The woman did not respond this time and completely ignored the nymph.

After about a minute of silence, Minithe chimed in again. "Gee, I would think that you'd want to talk to me, seeing as how you summoned me and all. Could have had a wolf, or an owl, or something, but you insisted on little ol' me."

The woman spoke up this time. "Sorry, but the 'Hey, you summoned me' routine hasn't been effective since I was nine. Not sure how you haven't figured that out in the last... what is it, now? Fourteen years? Yeah, I'm twenty-three. Fourteen years."

"Maybe you should've summoned an abacus as a familiar," Minithe shot back.

The woman huffed. "Please, just return to your bottle until we get into the city. Like I really need the guards locking me away because of you, after already coming this far."

Minithe rolled her eyes, "Yeah, whatever. But I won't go without making sure you know how unethical it is to keep a familiar in a bottle. That's, like... a mortal sin in the world of magical beings... or something." She shrunk down and flew back down through the cloak and into the bottle that was attached to the woman's hip, among other small satchels and vials.

The woman was nearly at the city's gates. A steel portcullis barred passage into the city, resting within a thirty-foot-tall wall of stone that wrapped around the city's base. It was considered to be impregnable by all bandits and vagabonds that toiled in the Queendom. The only light provided was a torch lit to the left of the gate. A lone guard was positioned in front of the portcullis, leaning against it with their arms crossed, and clearly fast asleep by the sound of the periodic snoring that echoed out of the face of their metal helm, in cartoonish fashion. This was perplexing to the woman, as she wasn't sure how a single guard was meant to be all that stood between the most dangerous forces the world had to offer and the crowning jewel of human civilization. The woman grew anxious when she noticed that the guard was sleeping, as she was unsure what would happen if she woke them. Would the guard think she was attacking them?