ValidEmotions
Queen of Dragons (no, not that one)
Argia
The Storyteller | Fallen Collector
Ten years.
The land was parched. Shriveled. It begged for mercy from the endless sun. Her hand swept across the petrified tree, feeling dead bark crumble away beneath her fingers. It didn't matter how gentle her touch was. Argia pulled her hand away and studied the particles clinging to her palm before eventually brushing it clean against the fabric of her skirt. Suffocating wind moaned, tangling the ends of her hair as the gust further weathered the dead tree before her. Looking away, her gaze drifted towards the dome rising from the horizon.
Clouded as it appeared, sunlight glinted off the hues of swirling dark blue as if it were a reflective material. In the ten years since the moon vanished, several of these domes popped into existence. The clouded barrier ahead was a looming, silent, announcement that the city was under the control of at least one demon. If she focused long enough, she could faintly see the runes embedded on the dome that allowed it to protect the city within.
Cracked earth crunched under foot as she started forward again. She could feel the souls calling within and, as she eventually drew close enough, she could parse their individual Lifelines. Glimmers of mortal life that danced across all of her senses. Argia drifted closer to the enclosed city, eventually reaching its boarder. Magic leaked from the dome like a heatwave. This close, she could make out the large runes etched into the dome in better detail.
Bringing a hand up, her fingers hovered just a hair's breadth away from the dome. Infernal energy prickled at her fingertips, threatening to lace itself through her. Slowly, she eased her hand away and continued moving along the city's protected boarder until she could find the entrance. It was one of those 'blink, and you'll miss it' sort. They nearly always were.
Several minutes passed before she at last found the entrance, a subtle seam within the magic. Standing before it, Argia studied the significantly smaller runes lining the threshold until she was certain of the safety in crossing it. Passing through a dome's barrier was always easier when going in than going out. Magical energy crawled along her body, soaking through the fabrics of her clothing and old bandages to caress her skin with intense heat. The light of the sun vanished, replaced by a heavy darkness that blanketed the city within.
Pausing briefly, Argia allowed her eyes to quickly adjust to the starless night before surveying the city ahead. Not many were out, leaving the street in an eerie silence with weak lamps struggling to stay alight. She frowned. Quietly, she resumed walking, passing beneath the streetlights and the shuttered buildings. Within, she could sense the mortals. It was becoming very likely that the city had an imposed curfew, Argia's gaze drifting to the pair of figures lingering at the opposite end of the street. They were watching her in similar kind. When she had closed about half the distance, she halted. Infernal energy rippled off their forms like murky water, painting their impossibly endless Lifelines behind Argia's dark eyes. Eventually, the pair began moving, striding towards her.
She waited.
"Been awhile since we had a visitor," one said when there were only a few strides left between them and her. The demon who spoke, the taller of the pair, leaned forward slightly, making no secret of studying her as his gaze flickered down then back up. His fellow took to pacing around her until they stood behind her. "What business do you have here tonight, Mäuschen?"
"Merely a traveler passing through," she replied, a glance darting towards the demon behind her before returning to the demon in front.
The short demon behind her sniffed, then chortled. "Well, your kind needs to pay for passage. Elsewise... We can't truly ensure you a safe refuge while here." As they spoke, Argia more felt than heard the demon shuffle forward. A set of claws plucked at one of the small pouches tied to her hip.
'Her kind'. A faint frown twitched at the corner of her lip in response. Demons never failed to make sure Argia was well aware of 'lowly' status of those who didn't cleanly fit within one category or another. Abomination. The blend of her Celestial and Infernal energies was one thing. Being Fallen just compounded upon that. She could only remember the last ten years, but she was quickly taught about the strongly rooted hatred. Her back itched--chaffed--beneath the cropped, short-sleeved, coat she wore. For a moment, she felt feathers brush her neck where the upright collar touched.
"What payment do you seek?" Argia finally inquired, fingers curling into her palm to avoid slapping the intrusive demon's hand away from her.
The taller demon grinned, a sickly-sweet expression upon his features that didn't look human enough. Sharp fangs glinted in the streetlight. "Just a few souls. Surely, Mäuschen, you have some to spare?"
She paused, considering her next reply carefully. Once more, she glanced behind her shoulder at the shorter demon who was still prodding at the pouches attached to her belt, head tilted as if they were listening to the contents. "Very well," Argia sighed. "If that is all...." She reached a hand upward, fingers touching lightly against the silver crescent pendant resting upon her collarbone. As she drew her hand away and outward towards the taller demon, flickers of blue flame sparked into existence at her fingertips. The flames gathered and swirled, coalescing into a sphere of blue fire roughly the size of a baseball that floated above her open palm.
Argia no longer remembered how she came to possess the mortal's soul resting within her hand. But, as she held it out for the demon to take, she remembered the mortal's life story. A youth, with so many hopes and dreams and ambitions that never came to fruition. Her eyes stung, forcing her to swallow down the emotion that began to ball up within her throat. I'm sorry, little one....
Letting the Soulfire float up from her palm to hover near her shoulder, she touched her necklace a second time. Similar to the first, the next Soulfire manifested, an elder's life playing through her thoughts as if she were flipping through the pages of an aged book. 'Storyteller' echoed at the back of her mind, the memory a frayed thread dangling just outside of Argia's reach. She wouldn't let her thoughts linger on the unknown memory, coaxing the second Soulfire to hover alongside the first.
The third Soulfire ended up belonging to a middle-aged individual, one who struggled regularly through the phases of their existence. Argia's chest pinged with a soft pain for the mortal as the Soulfire joined the other two near her shoulder. "I have these to offer you. If there is nothing else, I wish to be on my way," she said, gathering the three Soulfires between her hands to nudge carefully towards the taller demon.
The demon behind her finally traced their way back to their companion's side, both grinning sharply. "Yes, that'll do quite nicely, Mäuschen." Both demons took a step sideways, providing Argia a 'path' between them, and gesturing for her permittance to leave. She shifted her gaze from one to the other and back again, studying their features, their postures, and the three Soulfires that now floated about them. Finally, she stepped between and past them, striding down the sidewalk and out from beneath the streetlamp's glow. Silence stretched on as she continued, the lack of a breeze winding through the entombed city growing more eerie to Argia than the lack of mortals traveling the streets. It almost--
Her hackles prickled at the back of her neck.
She twisted abruptly, angling her body low as she swept her leg out for a counterbalance. Metal glinted with faint light as the dagger shot through where her shoulder should have been. Now facing the way she'd come, Argia narrowed her gaze upon the pair of demons sprinting for her. Both clutched daggers within their clawed hands.
"We know you've got a wealth of souls, Mäuschen," the taller demon called out. He leapt high, twirling through the jump to slash at her with his pair of daggers. "And you're going to yield them all!"
Argia dodged backwards, tendrils of shadow coalescing at her fingers until they solidified into a long staff that ended in a sharp, deadly, curved blade. She retaliated, switching her grip to swing the scythe in a wide arch. The shorter demon dove below the attack, managing to dart in close and forcing Argia to jerk the staff upward to deflect their cutting assault.
The Storyteller | Fallen Collector
Ten years.
The land was parched. Shriveled. It begged for mercy from the endless sun. Her hand swept across the petrified tree, feeling dead bark crumble away beneath her fingers. It didn't matter how gentle her touch was. Argia pulled her hand away and studied the particles clinging to her palm before eventually brushing it clean against the fabric of her skirt. Suffocating wind moaned, tangling the ends of her hair as the gust further weathered the dead tree before her. Looking away, her gaze drifted towards the dome rising from the horizon.
Clouded as it appeared, sunlight glinted off the hues of swirling dark blue as if it were a reflective material. In the ten years since the moon vanished, several of these domes popped into existence. The clouded barrier ahead was a looming, silent, announcement that the city was under the control of at least one demon. If she focused long enough, she could faintly see the runes embedded on the dome that allowed it to protect the city within.
Cracked earth crunched under foot as she started forward again. She could feel the souls calling within and, as she eventually drew close enough, she could parse their individual Lifelines. Glimmers of mortal life that danced across all of her senses. Argia drifted closer to the enclosed city, eventually reaching its boarder. Magic leaked from the dome like a heatwave. This close, she could make out the large runes etched into the dome in better detail.
Bringing a hand up, her fingers hovered just a hair's breadth away from the dome. Infernal energy prickled at her fingertips, threatening to lace itself through her. Slowly, she eased her hand away and continued moving along the city's protected boarder until she could find the entrance. It was one of those 'blink, and you'll miss it' sort. They nearly always were.
Several minutes passed before she at last found the entrance, a subtle seam within the magic. Standing before it, Argia studied the significantly smaller runes lining the threshold until she was certain of the safety in crossing it. Passing through a dome's barrier was always easier when going in than going out. Magical energy crawled along her body, soaking through the fabrics of her clothing and old bandages to caress her skin with intense heat. The light of the sun vanished, replaced by a heavy darkness that blanketed the city within.
Pausing briefly, Argia allowed her eyes to quickly adjust to the starless night before surveying the city ahead. Not many were out, leaving the street in an eerie silence with weak lamps struggling to stay alight. She frowned. Quietly, she resumed walking, passing beneath the streetlights and the shuttered buildings. Within, she could sense the mortals. It was becoming very likely that the city had an imposed curfew, Argia's gaze drifting to the pair of figures lingering at the opposite end of the street. They were watching her in similar kind. When she had closed about half the distance, she halted. Infernal energy rippled off their forms like murky water, painting their impossibly endless Lifelines behind Argia's dark eyes. Eventually, the pair began moving, striding towards her.
She waited.
"Been awhile since we had a visitor," one said when there were only a few strides left between them and her. The demon who spoke, the taller of the pair, leaned forward slightly, making no secret of studying her as his gaze flickered down then back up. His fellow took to pacing around her until they stood behind her. "What business do you have here tonight, Mäuschen?"
"Merely a traveler passing through," she replied, a glance darting towards the demon behind her before returning to the demon in front.
The short demon behind her sniffed, then chortled. "Well, your kind needs to pay for passage. Elsewise... We can't truly ensure you a safe refuge while here." As they spoke, Argia more felt than heard the demon shuffle forward. A set of claws plucked at one of the small pouches tied to her hip.
'Her kind'. A faint frown twitched at the corner of her lip in response. Demons never failed to make sure Argia was well aware of 'lowly' status of those who didn't cleanly fit within one category or another. Abomination. The blend of her Celestial and Infernal energies was one thing. Being Fallen just compounded upon that. She could only remember the last ten years, but she was quickly taught about the strongly rooted hatred. Her back itched--chaffed--beneath the cropped, short-sleeved, coat she wore. For a moment, she felt feathers brush her neck where the upright collar touched.
"What payment do you seek?" Argia finally inquired, fingers curling into her palm to avoid slapping the intrusive demon's hand away from her.
The taller demon grinned, a sickly-sweet expression upon his features that didn't look human enough. Sharp fangs glinted in the streetlight. "Just a few souls. Surely, Mäuschen, you have some to spare?"
She paused, considering her next reply carefully. Once more, she glanced behind her shoulder at the shorter demon who was still prodding at the pouches attached to her belt, head tilted as if they were listening to the contents. "Very well," Argia sighed. "If that is all...." She reached a hand upward, fingers touching lightly against the silver crescent pendant resting upon her collarbone. As she drew her hand away and outward towards the taller demon, flickers of blue flame sparked into existence at her fingertips. The flames gathered and swirled, coalescing into a sphere of blue fire roughly the size of a baseball that floated above her open palm.
Argia no longer remembered how she came to possess the mortal's soul resting within her hand. But, as she held it out for the demon to take, she remembered the mortal's life story. A youth, with so many hopes and dreams and ambitions that never came to fruition. Her eyes stung, forcing her to swallow down the emotion that began to ball up within her throat. I'm sorry, little one....
Letting the Soulfire float up from her palm to hover near her shoulder, she touched her necklace a second time. Similar to the first, the next Soulfire manifested, an elder's life playing through her thoughts as if she were flipping through the pages of an aged book. 'Storyteller' echoed at the back of her mind, the memory a frayed thread dangling just outside of Argia's reach. She wouldn't let her thoughts linger on the unknown memory, coaxing the second Soulfire to hover alongside the first.
The third Soulfire ended up belonging to a middle-aged individual, one who struggled regularly through the phases of their existence. Argia's chest pinged with a soft pain for the mortal as the Soulfire joined the other two near her shoulder. "I have these to offer you. If there is nothing else, I wish to be on my way," she said, gathering the three Soulfires between her hands to nudge carefully towards the taller demon.
The demon behind her finally traced their way back to their companion's side, both grinning sharply. "Yes, that'll do quite nicely, Mäuschen." Both demons took a step sideways, providing Argia a 'path' between them, and gesturing for her permittance to leave. She shifted her gaze from one to the other and back again, studying their features, their postures, and the three Soulfires that now floated about them. Finally, she stepped between and past them, striding down the sidewalk and out from beneath the streetlamp's glow. Silence stretched on as she continued, the lack of a breeze winding through the entombed city growing more eerie to Argia than the lack of mortals traveling the streets. It almost--
Her hackles prickled at the back of her neck.
She twisted abruptly, angling her body low as she swept her leg out for a counterbalance. Metal glinted with faint light as the dagger shot through where her shoulder should have been. Now facing the way she'd come, Argia narrowed her gaze upon the pair of demons sprinting for her. Both clutched daggers within their clawed hands.
"We know you've got a wealth of souls, Mäuschen," the taller demon called out. He leapt high, twirling through the jump to slash at her with his pair of daggers. "And you're going to yield them all!"
Argia dodged backwards, tendrils of shadow coalescing at her fingers until they solidified into a long staff that ended in a sharp, deadly, curved blade. She retaliated, switching her grip to swing the scythe in a wide arch. The shorter demon dove below the attack, managing to dart in close and forcing Argia to jerk the staff upward to deflect their cutting assault.
