furo
learn and let die
As it was accustomed yearly, the Lightning Kingdom ruler had traveled to the Molokai orphanage, located in the quiescent town of Taivas, near the southern end of the kingdom. In the Molokai orphanages resided the children whose parents had died as casualties during the Molokai Battle I in 3394 and Molokai Battle II in 3407, and Kaminari Raiden would visit them once a year without fail. This was due to her being a Molokai orphan herself – she’d lost her father, and the predecessor of the throne, in the second battle, when she was nineteen years of age, forcing her to unlawfully take rule of the kingdom, as it was stated in the testament he had written before going to war.
Rumor had spread like wildfire across the southern region of the kingdom that the ruler herself visited humble and unassuming Taivas, and ever since, Kaminari had decided to choose haphazard dates to travel, in order to remain undisturbed.
The tepid fog that climbed out of the waterways at the bottom of the chasms and teemed in the air was healthy for Kaminari’s lungs, who usually roamed around among the walls of the castle and modern edification of the capital city. It was like a gift to only hear the soft steady sound of water cascading down from the great heights of the valley.
A couple of hours before dusk, as Kaminari and her two escorts exited the orphanage building and headed towards the carriage, she could detect the lightest of noises, camouflaged by descent of currents in the waterfalls – a crackling snarl. It was very faint, stealthy.
She identified it. It was coming. A Quoloth attack; they hadn’t occurred in Taivas in decades. The ruler knew she was too far to react when it jolted from its shelter in the cave concealed beyond the waterfalls, and she did not manipulate the proper element to fend it off.
Rumor had spread like wildfire across the southern region of the kingdom that the ruler herself visited humble and unassuming Taivas, and ever since, Kaminari had decided to choose haphazard dates to travel, in order to remain undisturbed.
The tepid fog that climbed out of the waterways at the bottom of the chasms and teemed in the air was healthy for Kaminari’s lungs, who usually roamed around among the walls of the castle and modern edification of the capital city. It was like a gift to only hear the soft steady sound of water cascading down from the great heights of the valley.
A couple of hours before dusk, as Kaminari and her two escorts exited the orphanage building and headed towards the carriage, she could detect the lightest of noises, camouflaged by descent of currents in the waterfalls – a crackling snarl. It was very faint, stealthy.
She identified it. It was coming. A Quoloth attack; they hadn’t occurred in Taivas in decades. The ruler knew she was too far to react when it jolted from its shelter in the cave concealed beyond the waterfalls, and she did not manipulate the proper element to fend it off.