Snippet #2409932

The Xen’drik

Rnnyld bowed towards the Valeish who had answered the door. “Greetings to you. I am an emissary from the Xen’drik. I am here to speak with the lord of this domicile. I believe he goes by,” Rnnyld unfurled one of his scrolls, “Lord Kelzor Roseum.”


Ysma nodded enthusiastically and spoke in a metallic pitch. “Ah yes. Doctor Heyfeldt, I believe. I’m here on the orders of Acanthus himself.”


Chrysalis

Death. It loomed closer and closer every second. If her essence was a candle, death closed in like a cold shroud of darkness threatening to douse the flame at any moment. But she refused to let it. She was going to rule the world, she already owned it. It was not hers to die, not yet. But Death persisted, screaming at her, pushing her stronger and stronger.

Finally she snapped. “Othuma! Let go!”

She sat bolt upright. The world around her seemed to almost glow brilliantly. She looked and saw Othuma standing over her. It was him. He was the death that had been looming. He was the one who was trying to kill her. She yelled as she stood and backed away from him, “What are you doing?” Chrysalis drew her sword and pointed it at Othuma. She would kill him before he got her. No one would ever defeat her. No one. “You-“

A flash as she saw Othuma slicing through her neck with his scythe. “And after I tried to save you.” He said with a hint of sadness.

“-You…saved me?” She paused, confused. She sheathed the sword. “I-I’m very grateful.” She raised her hand to her neck. She felt scars, but it was still connected. She looked at Othuma; his scythe was nowhere to be seen. A vision of what might be? She thought to herself. What an interesting ability.