Story untitled story - (DM for advice/critique/etc)

[Hyeji]

A red star burned across the night sky.

A small, unblemished hand reached towards the [scattered] grey clouds. She was the only one who stood to watch. Her tribe had cowered at the news from the Seer. "Erkt khatak," they had whispered.

In their tongue, it meant 'as written.'

Unlike the others, she did not believe the stories of the 'Olik Al-thain Shahdwa.' Her father taught her the way of the ma'at—the path of suffering. A true Ishtar did not cower before their people. Instead, she would stay and fight. Anything at the edge of her blade would bleed, even if it meant her own life.

The star landed.

A wave of sand flew upward. The ground let a deep, rumbling sigh. For a moment, everything was chaos. Then the dust began to settle, revealing the aftermath.

The wreckage stretched wide, dunes of sand turned to jagged, glassy remains. A monolith of black stone jutted from the crater, pulsing faintly as if alive. Shattered bones lay scattered near it—some ancient, others fresh. The air reeked of copper and burnt flesh.

The cry of a great, metallic beast shattered the silence.

Yet the girl was not afraid.

"Baraya. Baraya. Agabaraya," she shouted against the wind. These were old, sacred words, a prayer of warriors who swept into battle. It was her challenge to the invaders.

This world was made of sand, yet within it stood a girl made of stone.

 

[Hyeji]

The red demon twisted in the wreckage. It was massive—its body made up of glistening, crimson plates that shimmered darkly beneath the twin moons. It had no eyes, no face, only a maw lined with spiraling, interlocking teeth, each the length of a spear. A single, battered wing hung limply at its side. Abezethibou was no ordinary demon. It was one of Beelzebub’s brood, a thing of gluttony.

Then, the beast shuddered. A figure emerged from the gaping darkness.

Mahishi.

She was tall and gaunt, her skin a shade too pale to belong to anything fully human. Her robes hung in tatters. A golden circlet pressed against her brow, though the weight of it no longer mattered. She had once been Nebetnehat, a grand priestess of a world that had fallen eons ago. Now, she was a medium, an empty husk used by Asmodeus.

The sound of bare feet on stone echoed from the beast's mouth. Behind the demoness, another figure slipped to join her.

It was a girl.

She was wrapped in tattered cloth, her eyes a dull gold. She had the sharpness of something unfinished, something in between youth and monstrosity. Her black hair was matted with blood, but not her own. Her hands, delicate but clawed, flexed against the dry air.

The beast behind them let out a low, guttural growl, shifting its massive form. The girl barely spared it a glance. It was starving. It always was.

"They will not understand," the girl murmured. She gazed down at the lone warrior standing against them, a human with a khopesh. "To them, we must be monsters."

Mahishi said nothing. She did not need to. This world was a primitive one. Lesser beings like these were sacrifices. Needed but miniscule nonetheless.

Still, there was something about her.

Abezethibou let out a guttural moan. It was hungry.

The warrior still did not flinch.

The girl stepped forward. "Courageous," she said simply. There was no warmth in her tone, only a detached acknowledgment, as if she were appraising a piece of art or a statue.

"But with great courage… comes great fear."

Mahishi’s gaze flicked toward the girl, calculating. She could end this mortal in an instant. It would be easy. A thought, a whisper, a flick of the hand.

"Spare me your theatrics, vessel of Asmodeus..." The girl turned her gaze to Mahishi. "Your master may be a Prince, but even he knows better than to take what is mine."

Mahishi considered this.

Then, she turned away.

The warrior girl had been spared.

For now.