Introduction
This is the way the world ends.
Not with a bang...
But with a whimper.
Not with a bang...
But with a whimper.
Saw the smoke, did you? Sit down by the fire, traveler. Nobody has existed here for a long time. You must have traveled far. Rest well-earned.
Fear not. I'm not going to kill you. I'm not Broken; still holding on to my humanity, until I've got what I came for. Not going to kill anyone who's still human. Not enough of us left in this world to justify such acts.
I think it's slowing down, you know. Built many fires on my journey. Seems to get harder each time. A wise man once told me that humanity can be defined as fire; that the two are intertwined. Just like people, I guess. Get close, they're warm. Too close... you get burnt into ash. The longer you're around, the more absolute that truth becomes.
So, you're young, then. What, two, three hundred? Shame about what happened to your parents. Happens to everyone eventually; we all Break, if we're not lucky enough to be killed first. Human beings are the only entities for which such a thing could happen... to conquer death, only to realise that death was what allowed us to live. The only species short-sighted enough. Funny, isn't it?
Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't realise you never knew. Suppose you'd've been too young when they died for them to ever explain it to you... way you're talking, you don't seem to have met anyone in a long time who might explain it to you. No matter. We've got time. Those of us who are still human at least deserve answers. Those are all that are really left in this world.
Many years ago, there was mankind's golden age. An age of vast cities, of bountiful fields, no mountain too high to climb and no magic too complex to comprehend. Cresta, the greatest of the world's cities, the spires of which were said to shine brighter than the sun itself - there resided a group of very, very clever men. These men called themselves the 'Angel Initiative'. A group of mages and alchemists, they caused so much good; cured plague after plague, healed famine after famine, even twisted the world itself to save us from natural disasters. They were as gods, and they knew it.
But they were, in truth, just men, and like all men once did, they knew that they would die. So they toiled for ten years, disappearing inside the highest tower of Cresta, and when they emerged, they proclaimed that they had done it. They had perfected a spell - a single spell - that, when cast, would grant all of mankind immortality, cause all who would be born ever after to stop ageing at twenty-five or so. The crowds cheered to the heavens, the very city shaking with their joy, as a radiant wave of light shone out from the tower as the members of the Angel Initiative cast their spell over the world.
For a time, life was perfect. Humanity feared nothing. Death and war were gone; now that we could live forever, death through conflict became unthinkable, as the end was no longer an inevitability. Naturally, to control the population, another spell was cast some years later that rendered only one in every few thousand pregnancies viable. Now that we were immortal, it seemed the perfect choice. We never doubted ourselves for a moment.
Then, over time, the truth became apparent; the one thing we had never caught upon in our quest for immortality. The one realisation we had never come to. We realised, with time, that body and soul were not as one; that they were separate, and that even though we had achieved immortality of one of them, we had not yet managed to protect the other. We realised that humanity is not how we look; it is not our flesh, blood and bone that makes us human. Humanity is something far more precious.
And we realised that it could be lost.
Ageing ceased, for a time; as long as we retained our humanity. But we realised, with time, that the fear of death is what gives us life. Without death, so did the will to live disappear from our lives. Eventually, the will to live of every human being disappears; they become Broken, aging into a corpse but never permitted to die, living in eternal torment at the agony of their own existence. That was another - to take away one of the few remaining causes of death in that age, a spell was cast that prevents any human from taking their own life. God, how the Angel Initiative believed they could save the world... and how we curse them now, hm?
So, what happened to all those vast kingdoms? Well, that's quite simple. Eventually, there were none left to hold onto them. The end didn't come quickly, though. No - we always thought it would, thought the world would burn in some great war or disappear in some great flood or perish in some great plague, but it did not. The end came... slowly, in its own way. Oh yes, there were steps - the Crusading Hunts of Belorast, the Demon War, the Fall of Cresta... but none of them quite destroyed us. Not all at once.
It was like one day, one perfectly ordinary day, we got out of bed, walked into the window, and realised that the world had ended around us, and we hadn't even noticed.
So now you know. Say, where are you going?
I... see. I suppose I should have known that when I saw you. I'd tell you to try to find something, but... me? Oh, I'm headed to the Asylum, just to the east of here. You see those cliffs over there? Yes, far above them. Haha! Yes, it is a bit of a climb. You could say I'm the determined type.
Well, you see, my reasoning is quite simple. I've got a long journey to the south ahead of me - a hard one. Won't be able to make it alone. So I'm headed to the Asylum. It's a place where, in the early days - before they realised that everyone lost their humanity eventually - those who seemed as though they would soon Break were sent, to live out their days until a cure could be found. If anyone is still human in there, after all this time... then they might just have the strength of will to do what I need. That's all I'll say now.
I'm sorry, by the way. For... everything. You deserved better. We all did. Yes, yes - I knew it as soon as I saw you. Way you walk, way you sit now... look in your eyes... seen it before. Too many times.
I won't let it happen, you know. You won't have to feel it. Trust me, this... this is better. Come on now, stand - you're a human being! Yes, that's it. Good. Face it with dignity. Don't worry, it's sharp. There'll only be an instant's pain. Then you'll be safe again.
Just hold still...
Fear not. I'm not going to kill you. I'm not Broken; still holding on to my humanity, until I've got what I came for. Not going to kill anyone who's still human. Not enough of us left in this world to justify such acts.
I think it's slowing down, you know. Built many fires on my journey. Seems to get harder each time. A wise man once told me that humanity can be defined as fire; that the two are intertwined. Just like people, I guess. Get close, they're warm. Too close... you get burnt into ash. The longer you're around, the more absolute that truth becomes.
So, you're young, then. What, two, three hundred? Shame about what happened to your parents. Happens to everyone eventually; we all Break, if we're not lucky enough to be killed first. Human beings are the only entities for which such a thing could happen... to conquer death, only to realise that death was what allowed us to live. The only species short-sighted enough. Funny, isn't it?
Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't realise you never knew. Suppose you'd've been too young when they died for them to ever explain it to you... way you're talking, you don't seem to have met anyone in a long time who might explain it to you. No matter. We've got time. Those of us who are still human at least deserve answers. Those are all that are really left in this world.
Many years ago, there was mankind's golden age. An age of vast cities, of bountiful fields, no mountain too high to climb and no magic too complex to comprehend. Cresta, the greatest of the world's cities, the spires of which were said to shine brighter than the sun itself - there resided a group of very, very clever men. These men called themselves the 'Angel Initiative'. A group of mages and alchemists, they caused so much good; cured plague after plague, healed famine after famine, even twisted the world itself to save us from natural disasters. They were as gods, and they knew it.
But they were, in truth, just men, and like all men once did, they knew that they would die. So they toiled for ten years, disappearing inside the highest tower of Cresta, and when they emerged, they proclaimed that they had done it. They had perfected a spell - a single spell - that, when cast, would grant all of mankind immortality, cause all who would be born ever after to stop ageing at twenty-five or so. The crowds cheered to the heavens, the very city shaking with their joy, as a radiant wave of light shone out from the tower as the members of the Angel Initiative cast their spell over the world.
For a time, life was perfect. Humanity feared nothing. Death and war were gone; now that we could live forever, death through conflict became unthinkable, as the end was no longer an inevitability. Naturally, to control the population, another spell was cast some years later that rendered only one in every few thousand pregnancies viable. Now that we were immortal, it seemed the perfect choice. We never doubted ourselves for a moment.
Then, over time, the truth became apparent; the one thing we had never caught upon in our quest for immortality. The one realisation we had never come to. We realised, with time, that body and soul were not as one; that they were separate, and that even though we had achieved immortality of one of them, we had not yet managed to protect the other. We realised that humanity is not how we look; it is not our flesh, blood and bone that makes us human. Humanity is something far more precious.
And we realised that it could be lost.
Ageing ceased, for a time; as long as we retained our humanity. But we realised, with time, that the fear of death is what gives us life. Without death, so did the will to live disappear from our lives. Eventually, the will to live of every human being disappears; they become Broken, aging into a corpse but never permitted to die, living in eternal torment at the agony of their own existence. That was another - to take away one of the few remaining causes of death in that age, a spell was cast that prevents any human from taking their own life. God, how the Angel Initiative believed they could save the world... and how we curse them now, hm?
So, what happened to all those vast kingdoms? Well, that's quite simple. Eventually, there were none left to hold onto them. The end didn't come quickly, though. No - we always thought it would, thought the world would burn in some great war or disappear in some great flood or perish in some great plague, but it did not. The end came... slowly, in its own way. Oh yes, there were steps - the Crusading Hunts of Belorast, the Demon War, the Fall of Cresta... but none of them quite destroyed us. Not all at once.
It was like one day, one perfectly ordinary day, we got out of bed, walked into the window, and realised that the world had ended around us, and we hadn't even noticed.
So now you know. Say, where are you going?
I... see. I suppose I should have known that when I saw you. I'd tell you to try to find something, but... me? Oh, I'm headed to the Asylum, just to the east of here. You see those cliffs over there? Yes, far above them. Haha! Yes, it is a bit of a climb. You could say I'm the determined type.
Well, you see, my reasoning is quite simple. I've got a long journey to the south ahead of me - a hard one. Won't be able to make it alone. So I'm headed to the Asylum. It's a place where, in the early days - before they realised that everyone lost their humanity eventually - those who seemed as though they would soon Break were sent, to live out their days until a cure could be found. If anyone is still human in there, after all this time... then they might just have the strength of will to do what I need. That's all I'll say now.
I'm sorry, by the way. For... everything. You deserved better. We all did. Yes, yes - I knew it as soon as I saw you. Way you walk, way you sit now... look in your eyes... seen it before. Too many times.
I won't let it happen, you know. You won't have to feel it. Trust me, this... this is better. Come on now, stand - you're a human being! Yes, that's it. Good. Face it with dignity. Don't worry, it's sharp. There'll only be an instant's pain. Then you'll be safe again.
Just hold still...
The Broken
What defines a human being? A question that was once asked by the great thinkers of the age. While no definitive answer yet exists, it is certain that the Broken have lost it.
To Break is the fate of all humans. A great spell cast in the distant past granted mankind physical immortality, but could not preserve the Humanity inside; with time, all humans give up the will to live and Break, becoming little more than empty shells, living only to die.
Without their Humanity, the binder of their physical form, all Broken slowly deteriorate; eventually, they come to look like little more than walking corpses, rotting skin plastered against withered bone.
All Broken are mad. Some still desperately cling to their past selves, repeating the last moments of their lives again and again; others curl up in dark corners, no longer able to cry, just holding themselves and praying that death might come for them - for the spell that was cast took away a human's ability to take its own life.
But many, many Broken are dangerous. Very dangerous. Despair breeds hatred, and as such, many Broken are little more than creatures of hate; they attack in a blind fury, and would pose little threat were it not for their vast numbers.
Almost all who were once human are now Broken. It is possible to travel through the Hollow Lands for years without seeing a single human; yet Broken pass you by, every day.
To Break is the fate of all humans.
Or so it seems...
What defines a human being? A question that was once asked by the great thinkers of the age. While no definitive answer yet exists, it is certain that the Broken have lost it.
To Break is the fate of all humans. A great spell cast in the distant past granted mankind physical immortality, but could not preserve the Humanity inside; with time, all humans give up the will to live and Break, becoming little more than empty shells, living only to die.
Without their Humanity, the binder of their physical form, all Broken slowly deteriorate; eventually, they come to look like little more than walking corpses, rotting skin plastered against withered bone.
All Broken are mad. Some still desperately cling to their past selves, repeating the last moments of their lives again and again; others curl up in dark corners, no longer able to cry, just holding themselves and praying that death might come for them - for the spell that was cast took away a human's ability to take its own life.
But many, many Broken are dangerous. Very dangerous. Despair breeds hatred, and as such, many Broken are little more than creatures of hate; they attack in a blind fury, and would pose little threat were it not for their vast numbers.
Almost all who were once human are now Broken. It is possible to travel through the Hollow Lands for years without seeing a single human; yet Broken pass you by, every day.
To Break is the fate of all humans.
Or so it seems...
The Setting
The Hollow Lands
This world once had another name, but it is lost to history. Now, they are only known as the Hollow Lands - a place of crumbling ruins, storm-wracked seas and vast, forboding forests that slowly reclaim any creation man dared to inflict upon it. There are three significant landmasses - Helladhell to the north, Nevria in the south and Belorast to the west. This is no longer a land for men; to the north, there lie the Tearing Winds, to the west, the Burning Plains, and even the once-beautiful central land of Nevria is now inhabited by hellish demons. And even without those threats, there remain the Broken; driven into hatred by despair and grief, many now attack whatever they see. There are rumours that there are other lands, but the seas are far too rough to even think of passage; if they do exist, they remain lost to history. To those trapped in these Hollow Lands, they are all that exists - this is where we are born, and this is where we shall die.
Helladhell
A jagged landmass to the distant north, a land carved of razor-edged rock and ice. The terrifying, arcane Tearing Winds batter its landscape, strong enough to tear skin from bone, and predators prowl its clefts and valleys for whatever prey they can still find; few individuals make their home here. Some do, though, for despite its appearances, there are places, protected from the Tearing Winds, that can be considered 'safe'; for there are few Demons in Helladhell; the Tearing Winds were first crafted to keep the War from reaching that far north.
The Asylum
Located upon a mountain at the very northmost peak of Helladhell, this great castle was built eons ago to house those who seemed to be soon to Break in the great Purges of Belorast; witch hunts in all but name, these crusades found any who could be conceived as at risk of Breaking and sent them north to the Asylum, where they would await either a cure, or the end of time - whichever came first. Some Broke on the journey; others took longer, far longer, holding onto the faintest hope for thousands of years, until finally realising that no rescue or cure would ever come. Now, there remains but one lonely, mysterious inhabitant...
Hermit's Hut
A mysterious hut in the middle of the snowy wasteland; inside, lie blankets and food, and more than a few skeletons. It seems almost as though someone chose to create this place as their dying gesture to the world; flinging a light into the future, so that someday, in the distant future, others might take refuge there.
Winterhelm
Once the greatest city of Helladhell, located inside a huge ravine in the middle of the continent, only its great Citadel exposed to the wind, it is now a crumbling ruin of stone archways and crude parapets. Believed to be the oldest city in the world, all manner of dangers lurk within it; but even then, a few columns of smoke still curl their way into the sky, the city's few remaining human inhabitants steadfastly holding onto life in this city of the dead.
Nevria
A once-beautiful land and forests and cities, now ravaged by the Demon War. Its very ground is stained by blood, the trees skeletal and sharp; eldritch energies still lurk in its darkest places, and nature has begun to reclaim the vast cities man built upon this place. Almost none remain here; it is a land of ravenous Broken, and if one observes long enough, one will sometimes witness the wars they still fight, driven by hatred and loneliness. However, the greatest threat are the colossal Demons who still walk this place, the descendents of their brethren cut down in the Demon War; without the vast armies of Cresta rallied against them, they are invulnerable, with some of the few remaining humans having constructed cults and monuments to their terrible power. While man once mastered this place, there is no doubt now that this is the land of demons.
Cresta
Cresta was once the greatest city in the world, without exception. Its tallest structures reached miles into the sky; the sun never reached its lowest streets, obscured by towers and archways and aquaducts the likes of which the world had never seen. Its shimmering golden spires inspired the greatest artists and thinkers of history to create and invent and build a civilisation that once spanned all three of the greatest lands. Through its streets walked courtly ladies clad in dresses that shone like the sun and knights resplendent in burnished gold armour. It was Great Cathedral, the tallest building in all of Cresta, was where the Curse of Immortality began. Now, however, all it remains is a hollow, empty city; during the Fall of Cresta, when - for reasons unknown - every Broken in the city became aggressive and started attacking those who retained their humanity, the Golden Knights cut them all down and tossed their corpses into the streets below; now, only silence echoes through its halls, and the once-thriving understreets are said to be piled a hundred feet high with the remains of the dead...
Ash Lake
A vast lake located immediately to the south of Cresta, on a high plateau; all of Cresta's aqueducts lead down from here, carrying water to the city. It earned its name for the fact that the entire lake is covered in white ash; it is said that this was the place that the Burning Angel was summoned to in the last days of the Demon War. Nobody knows what happened there, but the war is said to have ended then and there, with the Fall of Cresta taking place exactly ten days later.
Belorast
A land far to the west, across the sea. Consisting almost entirely of vast deserts, its signs of civilisation is few and far between; this is where the Demon War is known to have began, where the Gate of Hell first opened. Its presence can be felt all throughout the Hollow Lands; even from far north Helladhell, on a clear day, the smoke from the Burning Plains can be seen slowly rising into the sky.
The Burning Plains
Nobody knows what happened here, and nobody lives here to tell the tale. Everyone seems to have their own theory; some say that it was the work of a great fire demon, and others say it was mankind's desperate attempt to slow the advance of demonkind. What is known is that an area hundreds of miles in every direction is alight, burning constantly by means unknown; none dare to even approach it, the smoke lethally toxic to humans.
Hell's Gate
Said to be at the westernmost tip of Belorast, this is said to be an endlessly deep pit that burns with the fire of a thousand suns, where the first Demon was summoned in the Golden Age. Whether it even exists is unknown; what is even more unknown, is what lies on the other side...
The Characters
The Angel (taken by Beffiye)
Faceclaim: Jenna Berman
A mystery wrapped inside an enigma, her true name is lost to history; she has little recollection of how she came to be called 'Angel', and little concern for it. Appearing as a young woman, her age is near-incomprehensible, having spent countless years in the Asylum; despite her frail appearance, she has spent much of her life in combat, fighting mad Broken just to survive. She cannot remember a world outside the Asylum, and does not believe one to exist.
The Knight (taken by yours truly)
Faceclaim: Ian Somerhalder
An old, embittered soldier, claiming to have once been from Cresta. His age is unknown, as are his achievements; he declares them to not matter, and speaks little of his past. Clad in ominous dark armour and carrying a massive greatsword, he is undoubtedly a skilled fighter; he seems to have significant ambitions, although he refuses to explain their exact nature.
The Hollow Lands
This world once had another name, but it is lost to history. Now, they are only known as the Hollow Lands - a place of crumbling ruins, storm-wracked seas and vast, forboding forests that slowly reclaim any creation man dared to inflict upon it. There are three significant landmasses - Helladhell to the north, Nevria in the south and Belorast to the west. This is no longer a land for men; to the north, there lie the Tearing Winds, to the west, the Burning Plains, and even the once-beautiful central land of Nevria is now inhabited by hellish demons. And even without those threats, there remain the Broken; driven into hatred by despair and grief, many now attack whatever they see. There are rumours that there are other lands, but the seas are far too rough to even think of passage; if they do exist, they remain lost to history. To those trapped in these Hollow Lands, they are all that exists - this is where we are born, and this is where we shall die.
Helladhell
A jagged landmass to the distant north, a land carved of razor-edged rock and ice. The terrifying, arcane Tearing Winds batter its landscape, strong enough to tear skin from bone, and predators prowl its clefts and valleys for whatever prey they can still find; few individuals make their home here. Some do, though, for despite its appearances, there are places, protected from the Tearing Winds, that can be considered 'safe'; for there are few Demons in Helladhell; the Tearing Winds were first crafted to keep the War from reaching that far north.
The Asylum
Located upon a mountain at the very northmost peak of Helladhell, this great castle was built eons ago to house those who seemed to be soon to Break in the great Purges of Belorast; witch hunts in all but name, these crusades found any who could be conceived as at risk of Breaking and sent them north to the Asylum, where they would await either a cure, or the end of time - whichever came first. Some Broke on the journey; others took longer, far longer, holding onto the faintest hope for thousands of years, until finally realising that no rescue or cure would ever come. Now, there remains but one lonely, mysterious inhabitant...
Hermit's Hut
A mysterious hut in the middle of the snowy wasteland; inside, lie blankets and food, and more than a few skeletons. It seems almost as though someone chose to create this place as their dying gesture to the world; flinging a light into the future, so that someday, in the distant future, others might take refuge there.
Winterhelm
Once the greatest city of Helladhell, located inside a huge ravine in the middle of the continent, only its great Citadel exposed to the wind, it is now a crumbling ruin of stone archways and crude parapets. Believed to be the oldest city in the world, all manner of dangers lurk within it; but even then, a few columns of smoke still curl their way into the sky, the city's few remaining human inhabitants steadfastly holding onto life in this city of the dead.
Nevria
A once-beautiful land and forests and cities, now ravaged by the Demon War. Its very ground is stained by blood, the trees skeletal and sharp; eldritch energies still lurk in its darkest places, and nature has begun to reclaim the vast cities man built upon this place. Almost none remain here; it is a land of ravenous Broken, and if one observes long enough, one will sometimes witness the wars they still fight, driven by hatred and loneliness. However, the greatest threat are the colossal Demons who still walk this place, the descendents of their brethren cut down in the Demon War; without the vast armies of Cresta rallied against them, they are invulnerable, with some of the few remaining humans having constructed cults and monuments to their terrible power. While man once mastered this place, there is no doubt now that this is the land of demons.
Cresta
Cresta was once the greatest city in the world, without exception. Its tallest structures reached miles into the sky; the sun never reached its lowest streets, obscured by towers and archways and aquaducts the likes of which the world had never seen. Its shimmering golden spires inspired the greatest artists and thinkers of history to create and invent and build a civilisation that once spanned all three of the greatest lands. Through its streets walked courtly ladies clad in dresses that shone like the sun and knights resplendent in burnished gold armour. It was Great Cathedral, the tallest building in all of Cresta, was where the Curse of Immortality began. Now, however, all it remains is a hollow, empty city; during the Fall of Cresta, when - for reasons unknown - every Broken in the city became aggressive and started attacking those who retained their humanity, the Golden Knights cut them all down and tossed their corpses into the streets below; now, only silence echoes through its halls, and the once-thriving understreets are said to be piled a hundred feet high with the remains of the dead...
Ash Lake
A vast lake located immediately to the south of Cresta, on a high plateau; all of Cresta's aqueducts lead down from here, carrying water to the city. It earned its name for the fact that the entire lake is covered in white ash; it is said that this was the place that the Burning Angel was summoned to in the last days of the Demon War. Nobody knows what happened there, but the war is said to have ended then and there, with the Fall of Cresta taking place exactly ten days later.
Belorast
A land far to the west, across the sea. Consisting almost entirely of vast deserts, its signs of civilisation is few and far between; this is where the Demon War is known to have began, where the Gate of Hell first opened. Its presence can be felt all throughout the Hollow Lands; even from far north Helladhell, on a clear day, the smoke from the Burning Plains can be seen slowly rising into the sky.
The Burning Plains
Nobody knows what happened here, and nobody lives here to tell the tale. Everyone seems to have their own theory; some say that it was the work of a great fire demon, and others say it was mankind's desperate attempt to slow the advance of demonkind. What is known is that an area hundreds of miles in every direction is alight, burning constantly by means unknown; none dare to even approach it, the smoke lethally toxic to humans.
Hell's Gate
Said to be at the westernmost tip of Belorast, this is said to be an endlessly deep pit that burns with the fire of a thousand suns, where the first Demon was summoned in the Golden Age. Whether it even exists is unknown; what is even more unknown, is what lies on the other side...
The Characters
The Angel (taken by Beffiye)
Faceclaim: Jenna Berman
A mystery wrapped inside an enigma, her true name is lost to history; she has little recollection of how she came to be called 'Angel', and little concern for it. Appearing as a young woman, her age is near-incomprehensible, having spent countless years in the Asylum; despite her frail appearance, she has spent much of her life in combat, fighting mad Broken just to survive. She cannot remember a world outside the Asylum, and does not believe one to exist.
The Knight (taken by yours truly)
Faceclaim: Ian Somerhalder
An old, embittered soldier, claiming to have once been from Cresta. His age is unknown, as are his achievements; he declares them to not matter, and speaks little of his past. Clad in ominous dark armour and carrying a massive greatsword, he is undoubtedly a skilled fighter; he seems to have significant ambitions, although he refuses to explain their exact nature.
- 65 posts here • Page 3 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 2 authors
Knight say’s nothing for a moment, then climbs out the hollow. I crawl to the entrance, tuck my improvised spear through my belt, and accept his extended hand.
It would be good to reach the hut before nightfall. Who knows if we will be lucky enough to find shelter again if we don’t. So far, I have not seen anything out here that could hurt us, but I am not so naïve.
Now that I am standing, I smooth out my cloak and take the opportunity to look around me. The scene is the same as yesterday, but I still find the untouched snow strangely enchanting. It is nice to see parts of the world that have been left untouched by humans, and the fresh snow is one of them. Even then, Knight and I are the only ones with the pleasure to see it and walk through it. If I tried hard enough, then for a moment, I could imagine that the world belongs to us, that all it consists of is harmless nature.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t. There are all kinds of nasties that walk this earth, and we are far from in control.
I pull my hood up for extra warmth, and push my hair out of the way so that it is tucked at the back of the hood. I look up at Knight, and we start walking, destroying the blanket of perfect snow with our foot prints, one big set, one little set. When I look back, they are rather comically contrasting. I do like looking at them though, it is good to feel like we have left a mark on the landscape, even if it is just to be covered up by the fresh snow once more tonight.
Onwards we walk, hoping to get to our destination before the night falls once again.
It would be good to reach the hut before nightfall. Who knows if we will be lucky enough to find shelter again if we don’t. So far, I have not seen anything out here that could hurt us, but I am not so naïve.
Now that I am standing, I smooth out my cloak and take the opportunity to look around me. The scene is the same as yesterday, but I still find the untouched snow strangely enchanting. It is nice to see parts of the world that have been left untouched by humans, and the fresh snow is one of them. Even then, Knight and I are the only ones with the pleasure to see it and walk through it. If I tried hard enough, then for a moment, I could imagine that the world belongs to us, that all it consists of is harmless nature.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t. There are all kinds of nasties that walk this earth, and we are far from in control.
I pull my hood up for extra warmth, and push my hair out of the way so that it is tucked at the back of the hood. I look up at Knight, and we start walking, destroying the blanket of perfect snow with our foot prints, one big set, one little set. When I look back, they are rather comically contrasting. I do like looking at them though, it is good to feel like we have left a mark on the landscape, even if it is just to be covered up by the fresh snow once more tonight.
Onwards we walk, hoping to get to our destination before the night falls once again.
Two rows of footsteps are the only indication that humans have ever existed here, I muse as we walk, with a quick glance behind me.
In a few hours, they will be covered up by snow and it will be exactly as though we never existed. But, for just this moment, they are there, and they are absolute proof that we are real. That we once walked upon this world, even if only for an instant. Manifest proof of our reality.
The trees begin to thin as we walk, becoming further and further apart; the slope we walk down begins to even out, the wind rustling through the trees becoming firmer and firmer. Soon, we will emerge onto the plains, and we will need to stick very close to prevent from being separated.
It feels good to walk in the early-morning sun, even though I know that soon, the sky will be consumed by darkness and clouds once more. The sun makes me feel more alive than usual; further from Breaking. As though I'm facing the day on my own terms, not bowing to its will. As though I'm me again.
Those words have kept me alive for so long. I make a mental note to tell her of them sometime. The only things that have kept me from Breaking in my darkest moments; a simple challenge to myself, one that I've always risen to meet, so far. One that I'll keep repeating to myself until this is over.
I am not going to lose.
Suddenly, a noise sparks to our left. I freeze, playing the sound over and over in my mind, analysing it. Too big to just be the wind; the snapping of a twig, a big one. I know it. Something solid is coming, something powerful. We are not alone in this place.
I stick one arm out in front of Angel, barring her progress, saying nothing. My hand curls tight around my spear. I am not going to die in some godforsaken forest in the middle of no-where.
Whatever this thing coming is, either it is going to get out of our way, or I am going to kill it.
In a few hours, they will be covered up by snow and it will be exactly as though we never existed. But, for just this moment, they are there, and they are absolute proof that we are real. That we once walked upon this world, even if only for an instant. Manifest proof of our reality.
The trees begin to thin as we walk, becoming further and further apart; the slope we walk down begins to even out, the wind rustling through the trees becoming firmer and firmer. Soon, we will emerge onto the plains, and we will need to stick very close to prevent from being separated.
It feels good to walk in the early-morning sun, even though I know that soon, the sky will be consumed by darkness and clouds once more. The sun makes me feel more alive than usual; further from Breaking. As though I'm facing the day on my own terms, not bowing to its will. As though I'm me again.
Why not face today?
Those words have kept me alive for so long. I make a mental note to tell her of them sometime. The only things that have kept me from Breaking in my darkest moments; a simple challenge to myself, one that I've always risen to meet, so far. One that I'll keep repeating to myself until this is over.
I am not going to lose.
Suddenly, a noise sparks to our left. I freeze, playing the sound over and over in my mind, analysing it. Too big to just be the wind; the snapping of a twig, a big one. I know it. Something solid is coming, something powerful. We are not alone in this place.
I stick one arm out in front of Angel, barring her progress, saying nothing. My hand curls tight around my spear. I am not going to die in some godforsaken forest in the middle of no-where.
Whatever this thing coming is, either it is going to get out of our way, or I am going to kill it.
The trees are thinning, and the wind is getting stronger. My hood starts to flip down, but my fingers clamp it in place as quick as a flash, preventing it from falling any further and letting my hair loose. I pull it back up, and once I am certain it will stay put, I let go of it once more.
The sunshine feels nice on my back as we walk, it makes me feel warm, and even a little cosy. I could pretend that we are on a hike of our own pleasure, in harmless countryside, but what would be the point in that? It is better to know that we have a challenge to face, a goal to reach. That is what keeps one alive; that is what stops one from Breaking.
Suddenly, there is a noise to our left, the snapping of a twig. I move to keep on walking, but Knight stays in place and sticks his arm out in front of me as a barrier. He utters not a word, but his hand tightens around his spear. He is tense, livid, but determined. I realise now that I would never like to get on his bad side.
The sound comes closer, and even though I feel like a useless fighter compared to Knight, I produce my improvised spear. I can at least try to defend myself. Though, if I can’t, I have no doubt that Knight will put this thing down. To me, he seems very alive as he waits for the creature to show it’s face, more determined not to die than I have ever seen him yet. That is a good thing in retrospect; when something threatens your life and you are in the hands of someone who doesn’t care if they die, not one tiny bit, there is no doubt that you will die too.
I turn to face the noise, my free hand straying to my side where my knife is hidden and staying there, just in case I should need it. Whatever is coming, we will not be easy prey.
We will not be prey at all.
The sunshine feels nice on my back as we walk, it makes me feel warm, and even a little cosy. I could pretend that we are on a hike of our own pleasure, in harmless countryside, but what would be the point in that? It is better to know that we have a challenge to face, a goal to reach. That is what keeps one alive; that is what stops one from Breaking.
Suddenly, there is a noise to our left, the snapping of a twig. I move to keep on walking, but Knight stays in place and sticks his arm out in front of me as a barrier. He utters not a word, but his hand tightens around his spear. He is tense, livid, but determined. I realise now that I would never like to get on his bad side.
The sound comes closer, and even though I feel like a useless fighter compared to Knight, I produce my improvised spear. I can at least try to defend myself. Though, if I can’t, I have no doubt that Knight will put this thing down. To me, he seems very alive as he waits for the creature to show it’s face, more determined not to die than I have ever seen him yet. That is a good thing in retrospect; when something threatens your life and you are in the hands of someone who doesn’t care if they die, not one tiny bit, there is no doubt that you will die too.
I turn to face the noise, my free hand straying to my side where my knife is hidden and staying there, just in case I should need it. Whatever is coming, we will not be easy prey.
We will not be prey at all.
I take a step apart from Angel, a tiny bit nervously as I do so before reaffirming my actions. Humans might have natural strength in numbers, but we stand a better chance of fighting whatever this is apart than together; two targets are always more difficult than one. There are times that instincts are less than useful, and this is one of them.
I see her grip her spear determinedly, and nod to her firmly to stand her ground. Whatever this is, I am not afraid of it - I refuse to be afraid. I might be rather out of practice, but I still know full well who I am. I have slain Dragons. Whatever this is, it does not realise what it is up against.
Suddenly, a grey fur-coloured streak emerges from the forest, knocking me to the ground before I can react, sending my world spinning. My hood flies from my head as I slam to the ground, my armour plating clattering around me as I roll, and I barely manage to hold onto my spear as I desperately try to get my bearings.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
The familiar voice of Sir Emiyus, my mentor, resounds in my mind. When you get knocked to the ground, get air back in your lungs. Air is life. Without it, you can't stand and fight in anything remotely resembling proper fashion.
I roll and force myself to my feet, and as the grey blur makes another pass, drive my spear forward, earning a splash of red across my plating as it falls to the side, rolling along the ground and pausing. I manage to get myself a good look at it; it is wiry, aggressively sleek, some sort of four-legged, emaciated beast. It might once have been a wolf or mountain lion, but it has long since been warped beyond recognition, into some sort of monster, a beast of razor claws and gleaming teeth, saliva dripping from its oversized maw as it approaches me, fresh blood dripping onto the snow.
It moves too fast; I realise this now. I'm going to have a hell of a time trying to land even a single solid hit onto it, and based on the force it hit me with earlier, it's not going to have much trouble dispatching me. I feel a little hot blood run down my neck; I hope that the wound isn't too deep. I can't focus on that right now.
All I can hope for is that Angel knows the right time to strike.
I see her grip her spear determinedly, and nod to her firmly to stand her ground. Whatever this is, I am not afraid of it - I refuse to be afraid. I might be rather out of practice, but I still know full well who I am. I have slain Dragons. Whatever this is, it does not realise what it is up against.
Suddenly, a grey fur-coloured streak emerges from the forest, knocking me to the ground before I can react, sending my world spinning. My hood flies from my head as I slam to the ground, my armour plating clattering around me as I roll, and I barely manage to hold onto my spear as I desperately try to get my bearings.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
The familiar voice of Sir Emiyus, my mentor, resounds in my mind. When you get knocked to the ground, get air back in your lungs. Air is life. Without it, you can't stand and fight in anything remotely resembling proper fashion.
I roll and force myself to my feet, and as the grey blur makes another pass, drive my spear forward, earning a splash of red across my plating as it falls to the side, rolling along the ground and pausing. I manage to get myself a good look at it; it is wiry, aggressively sleek, some sort of four-legged, emaciated beast. It might once have been a wolf or mountain lion, but it has long since been warped beyond recognition, into some sort of monster, a beast of razor claws and gleaming teeth, saliva dripping from its oversized maw as it approaches me, fresh blood dripping onto the snow.
It moves too fast; I realise this now. I'm going to have a hell of a time trying to land even a single solid hit onto it, and based on the force it hit me with earlier, it's not going to have much trouble dispatching me. I feel a little hot blood run down my neck; I hope that the wound isn't too deep. I can't focus on that right now.
All I can hope for is that Angel knows the right time to strike.
A grey streak flashes across my vision, and before I even have time to register it, it has bowled into Knight. I am astonished; I was expecting to come across something a little more slow moving. Unsure of what to do, I start to move forwards, but thankfully Knight is quickly on his feet again.
He thrusts his spear forwards and stabs the furry grey thing as it goes to strike again, and it falls to the side. It pauses, and I take no more than a second to get a further look at its appearance, though not in any great detail. It looks like some kind of rabid wolf.
As it gets up I withdraw my knife, my mind moving much quicker in this fighting situation than usual. I won’t be able to get close enough to stab it by hand, the knife is way too small for that. However, it is also ideal to be used for throwing.
The beast starts towards Knight once again, and I draw back my arm and calculate my target. This could be completely futile, but as long as I hit it, some damage will be done. I’d like to get it in the heart, but I’m not in the right place. Instead, I aim for the back of its head.
I propel the knife forwards and let go, and it nestles itself into the top of the wolf’s back. It’s not exactly where I wanted it to be, but I could have missed completely. I’d say that’s some okay skill for someone who might never have thrown knives before, or at least hasn’t for a few hundred years. My mouth twitches upwards at the corners a few millimetres for a split second at my achievement.
The wolf stops in its tracks as the blade digs deep into its body, and blood spurts from the wound. It turns to me, and I feel myself pale as I remember the pure strength it has. I’m not wearing armour like Knight.
I hold my spear in two hands in front of me so that the tip is pointing to my left as the beast hurdles towards me, trying to use it as some sort of barrier. It knocks into me, but I manage to push it off my body using the spear as I fall. I curl in on myself, and roll as I hit the ground. I feel a ripple of pain through my shoulder, but thankfully I do not feel too hurt as I managed to get the additional body weight of the wolf off me before I landed. However, I’m not sure if I will be able to stand up quick enough.
I do try, but the beast is now behind me. Just as I straighten up, I feel an enormous weight slam into the backs of my knees, which immediately give way as I fall forwards. I slap a palm onto the floor as I hit it, but my other one is occupied with holding my spear. I quickly jab the point downwards into the floor, which helps to break my fall.
Unfortunately, the heavy beast is now on my back. I can’t get it off, and I can’t see what it is going to do to me.
He thrusts his spear forwards and stabs the furry grey thing as it goes to strike again, and it falls to the side. It pauses, and I take no more than a second to get a further look at its appearance, though not in any great detail. It looks like some kind of rabid wolf.
As it gets up I withdraw my knife, my mind moving much quicker in this fighting situation than usual. I won’t be able to get close enough to stab it by hand, the knife is way too small for that. However, it is also ideal to be used for throwing.
The beast starts towards Knight once again, and I draw back my arm and calculate my target. This could be completely futile, but as long as I hit it, some damage will be done. I’d like to get it in the heart, but I’m not in the right place. Instead, I aim for the back of its head.
I propel the knife forwards and let go, and it nestles itself into the top of the wolf’s back. It’s not exactly where I wanted it to be, but I could have missed completely. I’d say that’s some okay skill for someone who might never have thrown knives before, or at least hasn’t for a few hundred years. My mouth twitches upwards at the corners a few millimetres for a split second at my achievement.
The wolf stops in its tracks as the blade digs deep into its body, and blood spurts from the wound. It turns to me, and I feel myself pale as I remember the pure strength it has. I’m not wearing armour like Knight.
I hold my spear in two hands in front of me so that the tip is pointing to my left as the beast hurdles towards me, trying to use it as some sort of barrier. It knocks into me, but I manage to push it off my body using the spear as I fall. I curl in on myself, and roll as I hit the ground. I feel a ripple of pain through my shoulder, but thankfully I do not feel too hurt as I managed to get the additional body weight of the wolf off me before I landed. However, I’m not sure if I will be able to stand up quick enough.
I do try, but the beast is now behind me. Just as I straighten up, I feel an enormous weight slam into the backs of my knees, which immediately give way as I fall forwards. I slap a palm onto the floor as I hit it, but my other one is occupied with holding my spear. I quickly jab the point downwards into the floor, which helps to break my fall.
Unfortunately, the heavy beast is now on my back. I can’t get it off, and I can’t see what it is going to do to me.
I am bracing myself for the impact of its next lunge when it suddenly crumples, letting out some sort of pained, gargling whimper. It takes me a few moments of close observation to see the knife in its spine, to realise that Angel has retaliated. A good shot, without question - almost perfectly-aimed. A few millimetres to the left and the beast would have its spinal cord cut, falling to the ground.
The beast slowed, I prepare for it to attack and to cut it down with my final strike, but before I can adjust, it has spun and sprints forward, zipping around Angel. Before I can cry out a warning, it has barrelled into her slender, fragile-looking form, slamming her to the ground; she manages to use the spear to break her fall, but it does her little good. I see the beast prepare to bite down into her neck, and react automatically, knowing that one wrong move here spells not only death for her, but the end for my dreams.
I lunge forward with a powerful roar, exerting as much force as I can into a spear-strike into its chest as it dives down, teeth bound for the nerve bundle at the base of her neck. Instants before it can wrap its teeth around her, the tip of the spear penetrates the monster's flesh, sending it flying upwards. I feel the improvised, rusted weapon angrily hack through skin and muscle and then internal organs, before finally stopping with a crack! and a jarring shockwave through my hands.
The beast is impaled, and when my mind returns to reality from its simplistic, animalistic 'combat mode', I see that I am holding my spear up in the air, the beast impaled on it, its face twisted in a final snarl as it twitches away its last traces of life. With a derisive grunt, I swing my spear around, throwing the wolf-like abomination off it. It hits the ground hard, tumbling across the snow before slamming into a tree trunk, leaving a long trail of blood and entrails behind it. I flick my spear with one hand, the blood on it spattering across the pristine snow.
"Are you injured?" I question, kneeling beside Angel, offering her a hand. I cast away any doubt. She's okay. She has to be okay. Otherwise-
If she's not, then it all meant nothing.
The beast slowed, I prepare for it to attack and to cut it down with my final strike, but before I can adjust, it has spun and sprints forward, zipping around Angel. Before I can cry out a warning, it has barrelled into her slender, fragile-looking form, slamming her to the ground; she manages to use the spear to break her fall, but it does her little good. I see the beast prepare to bite down into her neck, and react automatically, knowing that one wrong move here spells not only death for her, but the end for my dreams.
I lunge forward with a powerful roar, exerting as much force as I can into a spear-strike into its chest as it dives down, teeth bound for the nerve bundle at the base of her neck. Instants before it can wrap its teeth around her, the tip of the spear penetrates the monster's flesh, sending it flying upwards. I feel the improvised, rusted weapon angrily hack through skin and muscle and then internal organs, before finally stopping with a crack! and a jarring shockwave through my hands.
The beast is impaled, and when my mind returns to reality from its simplistic, animalistic 'combat mode', I see that I am holding my spear up in the air, the beast impaled on it, its face twisted in a final snarl as it twitches away its last traces of life. With a derisive grunt, I swing my spear around, throwing the wolf-like abomination off it. It hits the ground hard, tumbling across the snow before slamming into a tree trunk, leaving a long trail of blood and entrails behind it. I flick my spear with one hand, the blood on it spattering across the pristine snow.
"Are you injured?" I question, kneeling beside Angel, offering her a hand. I cast away any doubt. She's okay. She has to be okay. Otherwise-
If she's not, then it all meant nothing.
As I lie face down in the snow, I feel all my senses heightened. Every shifting of weight the beast makes as its head gets closer to me, the sound and feel of its rasping breath down my neck. I can see every individual fleck of snow in front of my face, and feel the sheer coldness of it freezing my skin to an extent I have never felt before. My own breathing seems almost as loud as the beasts, but it is calm and steady, as is my heartbeat which I am suddenly very aware of as it bangs away in my chest.
Then, everything comes crashing down upon me.
The snow is no longer white and beautifully detailed, it is grey and seems to be spinning around in circles, drawing near to and then distancing itself from my face. My body goes numb, and my ears are filled with a roaring sound. Whether it is Knights battle cry or a blood rush, I’m not sure.
Suddenly, an explosion of noise erupts in my ears, and I gasp for breath frantically as the weight of the beast is lifted off me. I know I should get up now, but my body would rather I stay here, lying in the snow. The roaring in my ears fades to a soft ringing, and I hear Knight grunt as something hurdles into a tree trunk. I hope that it is not him.
I feel the presence of someone next to me, and my senses finally pull themselves together. I realise I am still lying face down in the snow, which is rather unpleasant.
“No,” I grunt in response to Knight’s enquiry, and reluctantly roll myself over and sit up. I accept his outstretched arm, and rely on it more than I would like to stand up. My knees almost buckle again beneath me, but I steady myself and put my weight on them again, more cautiously this time. They hurt, but I’ll be okay. At most, they’ll be sore for a few days.
I shake the snow off myself and take the opportunity to look Knight over, for he too was taken down by the beast, which I can now see slumped against a tree, dead. Knight looks fine, and now it is clear that we are both more or less in a good condition, I breathe a sigh of relief. I may pride myself over battling the Broken, but that experience is almost nothing against beasts like those. I hope we never come across one again.
But alas, we will run into more monsters one way or another. And they can probably only get worse.
Though if we are going to be optimistic, you can at least say that for my fighting skills, the only way is up.
Then, everything comes crashing down upon me.
The snow is no longer white and beautifully detailed, it is grey and seems to be spinning around in circles, drawing near to and then distancing itself from my face. My body goes numb, and my ears are filled with a roaring sound. Whether it is Knights battle cry or a blood rush, I’m not sure.
Suddenly, an explosion of noise erupts in my ears, and I gasp for breath frantically as the weight of the beast is lifted off me. I know I should get up now, but my body would rather I stay here, lying in the snow. The roaring in my ears fades to a soft ringing, and I hear Knight grunt as something hurdles into a tree trunk. I hope that it is not him.
I feel the presence of someone next to me, and my senses finally pull themselves together. I realise I am still lying face down in the snow, which is rather unpleasant.
“No,” I grunt in response to Knight’s enquiry, and reluctantly roll myself over and sit up. I accept his outstretched arm, and rely on it more than I would like to stand up. My knees almost buckle again beneath me, but I steady myself and put my weight on them again, more cautiously this time. They hurt, but I’ll be okay. At most, they’ll be sore for a few days.
I shake the snow off myself and take the opportunity to look Knight over, for he too was taken down by the beast, which I can now see slumped against a tree, dead. Knight looks fine, and now it is clear that we are both more or less in a good condition, I breathe a sigh of relief. I may pride myself over battling the Broken, but that experience is almost nothing against beasts like those. I hope we never come across one again.
But alas, we will run into more monsters one way or another. And they can probably only get worse.
Though if we are going to be optimistic, you can at least say that for my fighting skills, the only way is up.
The setting changes from Helladhell to The Hollow Lands
Despite her response, it is clear that she is alright; I can see it in her eyes as she shakes the snow off herself, her body moving with some semblance of fluidity, as though completely ignoring what had only moments ago taken place. She's tough; she doesn't realise it yet, but she's tough. She will need to be.
I do not say this to her, clever enough not to tell her, but this is one of the weaker things I have witnessed. Faster than most, admittedly, but by no means the worst. Once, I had fought all manner of horrors spawned from the very depths of hell; led the charge against armies the likes of which this world had not seen before or since. Been crowned a hero - perhaps not the true hero, but a hero nonetheless. So why had this single beast, this insignificant, twisted, emaciated monster, caused me such difficulty?
But then, this was not back then, was it? Things had changed. I was no longer the legendary Dragonslayer Knight, no longer the Hero of Cresta. I'd lost the right to both of those titles many years ago. I no longer stand in the resplendent golden armour that had once seemed so invincible, so proud; now, I just wear rusted, mismatched armour, carry a stolen spike and a battered bastard sword. I am no longer any of those titles and accolades that had once been heaped upon me.
Now, I am just a man, and like all men, I could die all too easily.
Or perhaps not, I think, with a quick glance to her as we begin walking onwards through the forest. To her, I am 'Knight'. All the things that word means - I've betrayed all of those rules a thousand times, but what if I can maybe - just maybe - start again? She doesn't know what I did. To her, I remain her rusted saviour, come to spirit her away from the Asylum - to her, perhaps I can be that hero again.
It would all be a lie, of course, but then, isn't everything?
Even in the short span of the last few weeks that I journeyed in search of the Asylum, I have already forgotten the sheer force of the Tearing Winds upon the vast plains of Helladhell.
It pulls at me like the claws of some great demon, gusting up as we emerge from between crevice and onto the open plains. I see her flinch and stagger, and lash out with one arm, grabbing her around the shoulders, keeping her steady; I weigh more than her, can help keep her anchored. I pull her hood up over her head, then mine; from the angle in question, the wind will not blow them off our heads, and I am deeply thankful for this.
"Hold fast and keep low!" I shout, as I bow my head, making myself a smaller profile for the winds; I keep my armoured gauntlet tight around her, trying to figure out a more effective means of movement. Nothing comes to mind.
I take one step forward, then another, boots sinking deep into the snow. It is going to be a long journey, I think to myself, as I walk; it is slow going, taking each and every step cautiously. If I hit a rift and sink deep into the snow, that will be the end of us both. Walking in these winds is a difficult experience; I see nothing in the distance, only wisps of ripped air over the blasted-flat landscape, relying almost entirely on my own sense of direction to keep us where we want to go.
The sky has become cold and grey; I do not know how many hours until dark, but I would guess somewhere around twenty. Time travels oddly here, and I hope that it is simply the unusual geography of this region that makes it so. I am unsure of what I would do if reality itself begins to break down.
This journey has enough complications already, I think, with an unconscious glance down towards the woman I hold against the winds.
Enough complications already.
I do not say this to her, clever enough not to tell her, but this is one of the weaker things I have witnessed. Faster than most, admittedly, but by no means the worst. Once, I had fought all manner of horrors spawned from the very depths of hell; led the charge against armies the likes of which this world had not seen before or since. Been crowned a hero - perhaps not the true hero, but a hero nonetheless. So why had this single beast, this insignificant, twisted, emaciated monster, caused me such difficulty?
But then, this was not back then, was it? Things had changed. I was no longer the legendary Dragonslayer Knight, no longer the Hero of Cresta. I'd lost the right to both of those titles many years ago. I no longer stand in the resplendent golden armour that had once seemed so invincible, so proud; now, I just wear rusted, mismatched armour, carry a stolen spike and a battered bastard sword. I am no longer any of those titles and accolades that had once been heaped upon me.
Now, I am just a man, and like all men, I could die all too easily.
Or perhaps not, I think, with a quick glance to her as we begin walking onwards through the forest. To her, I am 'Knight'. All the things that word means - I've betrayed all of those rules a thousand times, but what if I can maybe - just maybe - start again? She doesn't know what I did. To her, I remain her rusted saviour, come to spirit her away from the Asylum - to her, perhaps I can be that hero again.
It would all be a lie, of course, but then, isn't everything?
Even in the short span of the last few weeks that I journeyed in search of the Asylum, I have already forgotten the sheer force of the Tearing Winds upon the vast plains of Helladhell.
It pulls at me like the claws of some great demon, gusting up as we emerge from between crevice and onto the open plains. I see her flinch and stagger, and lash out with one arm, grabbing her around the shoulders, keeping her steady; I weigh more than her, can help keep her anchored. I pull her hood up over her head, then mine; from the angle in question, the wind will not blow them off our heads, and I am deeply thankful for this.
"Hold fast and keep low!" I shout, as I bow my head, making myself a smaller profile for the winds; I keep my armoured gauntlet tight around her, trying to figure out a more effective means of movement. Nothing comes to mind.
I take one step forward, then another, boots sinking deep into the snow. It is going to be a long journey, I think to myself, as I walk; it is slow going, taking each and every step cautiously. If I hit a rift and sink deep into the snow, that will be the end of us both. Walking in these winds is a difficult experience; I see nothing in the distance, only wisps of ripped air over the blasted-flat landscape, relying almost entirely on my own sense of direction to keep us where we want to go.
The sky has become cold and grey; I do not know how many hours until dark, but I would guess somewhere around twenty. Time travels oddly here, and I hope that it is simply the unusual geography of this region that makes it so. I am unsure of what I would do if reality itself begins to break down.
This journey has enough complications already, I think, with an unconscious glance down towards the woman I hold against the winds.
Enough complications already.
The setting changes from The Hollow Lands to Helladhell
I gasp as we move into the open plains, and the Tearing Winds catch hold of me. I stagger to the side, then suddenly I am clamped down by my shoulder. I look over at Knight, who has one armoured gauntlet wrapped tightly around my slender frame. With the help from him steadying me, I rebalance and get my breath back.
The chilly wind bites at the bare skin of my hands, neck and face, so I am relieved when Knight gently pulls up my hood for me. As he pulls up his own, I furrow my hands into the pockets of my cloak to keep them warm too. Then, we slowly begin to move, and obeying his command I duck down my head like he has done.
What I can see of the land in front of us is bleak, the same scenery stretches out for what seems like miles around us, as far as the eye can see. The sky above us looks cold and forbidding, and I hope that that is normal around here. Getting caught in a storm out here would bring the reaper to the both of us.
We continue to walk slowly, one step at a time, and nothing new ever comes over the horizon. No signs of shelter, no sign of the end to this open space. No sign of anything.
I wonder if the world always used to be like this, if it was always so cold and menacing in these places. Was our journey to the Asylum this long and difficult? What stopped us from running away before we got here? Where we marched here by soldiers, with blades held at our throats, or did we come by some other means of transport, I wonder. Did some lose their lives here in the open plains to the Tearing Winds before they had even reached the Asylum?
It is funny to think how many people have lost their lives to the Curse of Immortality. It was supposed to ensure that the end never came for us, yet the end is what it brought. It was supposed to undo death, yet death is what it has caused for everyone.
Except for us. It has not got the better of Knight and I yet; and if we complete our mission, it never will. Even if we are too late to save everyone else.
The chilly wind bites at the bare skin of my hands, neck and face, so I am relieved when Knight gently pulls up my hood for me. As he pulls up his own, I furrow my hands into the pockets of my cloak to keep them warm too. Then, we slowly begin to move, and obeying his command I duck down my head like he has done.
What I can see of the land in front of us is bleak, the same scenery stretches out for what seems like miles around us, as far as the eye can see. The sky above us looks cold and forbidding, and I hope that that is normal around here. Getting caught in a storm out here would bring the reaper to the both of us.
We continue to walk slowly, one step at a time, and nothing new ever comes over the horizon. No signs of shelter, no sign of the end to this open space. No sign of anything.
I wonder if the world always used to be like this, if it was always so cold and menacing in these places. Was our journey to the Asylum this long and difficult? What stopped us from running away before we got here? Where we marched here by soldiers, with blades held at our throats, or did we come by some other means of transport, I wonder. Did some lose their lives here in the open plains to the Tearing Winds before they had even reached the Asylum?
It is funny to think how many people have lost their lives to the Curse of Immortality. It was supposed to ensure that the end never came for us, yet the end is what it brought. It was supposed to undo death, yet death is what it has caused for everyone.
Except for us. It has not got the better of Knight and I yet; and if we complete our mission, it never will. Even if we are too late to save everyone else.
It is an hour before I admit to myself that I have made a mistake.
This is not an easy admission for me to make, I will confess that much. I have done many great and terrible things in my time, but generally, I have done them with full intention, albeit not always knowledge of their consequences.
This time, however, I have made an out-and-out mistake. I cannot think of another means of getting across these plains, but any plan that requires walking through these horrific winds is clearly not the best one. Perhaps I should have thought this one through a little more.
No matter, however. We are too far across now to cease, and can only keep walking; the winds have allowed us a little more passage, and I have managed to release her shoulder, the two of us now able to walk with some efficiency. I can still feel the remnants of my tattered cloak whipping out behind me, lashing at the air, as though protesting the assault of the wind; but it can do nothing, can save us nothing.
The arcane winds here are intangible, destructive and wholly invisible. Perhaps a skilled mage could persuade it to vanish for a time; but I am no sorcerer, having only dabbled in magic as a child and ever-after favouring a blade. A quick glance up at the sky reveals ominous clouds closing in. A blizzard is coming; we have perhaps six hours. With a quick look towards Angel, I quicken my pace, hoping that she knows to do the same; talking is almost impossible over the roar of the wind against snow.
At the very least, the winds are a form of safety, in and of themselves. Crafted by northern mages of Winterhelm in times long past, to keep the Demon War from reaching this far north, after the kingdom crumbled. Perhaps if the North had been willing to field their vast armies, then less would have died; perhaps Cresta would have continued for another few centuries.
Not that it would have done any good. Cresta was going down, falling one way or another. That had been clear for a very, very long time. Everyone had seen it.
Except me, of course.
I turn to Angel, seeing her a tiny bit behind me; I force myself to slow. Being caught in a blizzard might kill us, but losing her will surely be the end.
"Are you alright?!" I roar at the top of my lungs, over the roaring winds around us.
((AN: Feel free to timeskip if you like, or don't - either is cool!))
This is not an easy admission for me to make, I will confess that much. I have done many great and terrible things in my time, but generally, I have done them with full intention, albeit not always knowledge of their consequences.
This time, however, I have made an out-and-out mistake. I cannot think of another means of getting across these plains, but any plan that requires walking through these horrific winds is clearly not the best one. Perhaps I should have thought this one through a little more.
No matter, however. We are too far across now to cease, and can only keep walking; the winds have allowed us a little more passage, and I have managed to release her shoulder, the two of us now able to walk with some efficiency. I can still feel the remnants of my tattered cloak whipping out behind me, lashing at the air, as though protesting the assault of the wind; but it can do nothing, can save us nothing.
The arcane winds here are intangible, destructive and wholly invisible. Perhaps a skilled mage could persuade it to vanish for a time; but I am no sorcerer, having only dabbled in magic as a child and ever-after favouring a blade. A quick glance up at the sky reveals ominous clouds closing in. A blizzard is coming; we have perhaps six hours. With a quick look towards Angel, I quicken my pace, hoping that she knows to do the same; talking is almost impossible over the roar of the wind against snow.
At the very least, the winds are a form of safety, in and of themselves. Crafted by northern mages of Winterhelm in times long past, to keep the Demon War from reaching this far north, after the kingdom crumbled. Perhaps if the North had been willing to field their vast armies, then less would have died; perhaps Cresta would have continued for another few centuries.
Not that it would have done any good. Cresta was going down, falling one way or another. That had been clear for a very, very long time. Everyone had seen it.
Except me, of course.
I turn to Angel, seeing her a tiny bit behind me; I force myself to slow. Being caught in a blizzard might kill us, but losing her will surely be the end.
"Are you alright?!" I roar at the top of my lungs, over the roaring winds around us.
((AN: Feel free to timeskip if you like, or don't - either is cool!))
We have been walking for a long time, and I am feeling tired. My breathing is a little shallower than what it once was, and my legs ache in protest as we make our way through the snow. I’d like to stop and catch my breath, but in this wind, it is better to just keep moving. It’s not like I have a loud enough voice or enough air in my lungs, to shout over the wind to Knight to stop.
The wind has at least died down somewhat, which means that for the time being Knight is no longer holding me upright. The sky has darkened though, and I hope that we don’t get caught in a storm.
Knight picks up his pace, and I do too, but I struggle to keep up with him. He doesn’t notice for a few minutes (or at least, I think it was a few minutes anyway. I’m still struggling to measure time), but eventually he realises that I’ve fallen behind. He slows down a bit, and we walk side by side once more.
“Are you alright?” he roars over the winds, and when he is looking at me, I nod my reply back. I am too quiet to shout over these howling winds, regardless of the fact that my voice is a little broken.
Just like me, really. We are all a tiny bit Broken on the inside.
I can see trees.
The horizon – it’s changed.
I can see trees on the horizon.
I don’t care how small that patch of trees is, all that matters is that it is a bit of shelter. I hope that it is a forest, and that we won’t have to walk in any open space for a long time, but whatever it is, I am grateful.
Once, I believed in a God. I don’t anymore, but if I did, I would thank him for the miracle that he sent us. I used to believe in guardian angels too, but now I just consider them to be a metaphor for the souls inside of us. Your guardian angel will help you – it’s called helping yourself.
The only person who can keep you human in this world is yourself.
I push on hopefully, exhaling in short breaths as I try to walk as fast as Knight was walking earlier, but I barely draw in front of him. Exasperated, I throw a forlorn look at the trees, willing them to come here, but they do not move. It will not be a long walk to get to them, we have spent a couple of hours out here, but any time taken to get to them is long enough.
Any time spent out here, in the open, is long enough.
The wind has at least died down somewhat, which means that for the time being Knight is no longer holding me upright. The sky has darkened though, and I hope that we don’t get caught in a storm.
Knight picks up his pace, and I do too, but I struggle to keep up with him. He doesn’t notice for a few minutes (or at least, I think it was a few minutes anyway. I’m still struggling to measure time), but eventually he realises that I’ve fallen behind. He slows down a bit, and we walk side by side once more.
“Are you alright?” he roars over the winds, and when he is looking at me, I nod my reply back. I am too quiet to shout over these howling winds, regardless of the fact that my voice is a little broken.
Just like me, really. We are all a tiny bit Broken on the inside.
I can see trees.
The horizon – it’s changed.
I can see trees on the horizon.
I don’t care how small that patch of trees is, all that matters is that it is a bit of shelter. I hope that it is a forest, and that we won’t have to walk in any open space for a long time, but whatever it is, I am grateful.
Once, I believed in a God. I don’t anymore, but if I did, I would thank him for the miracle that he sent us. I used to believe in guardian angels too, but now I just consider them to be a metaphor for the souls inside of us. Your guardian angel will help you – it’s called helping yourself.
The only person who can keep you human in this world is yourself.
I push on hopefully, exhaling in short breaths as I try to walk as fast as Knight was walking earlier, but I barely draw in front of him. Exasperated, I throw a forlorn look at the trees, willing them to come here, but they do not move. It will not be a long walk to get to them, we have spent a couple of hours out here, but any time taken to get to them is long enough.
Any time spent out here, in the open, is long enough.
Finally, gosh damn finally, we are in shelter once more. My breathing is ragged and I'm very tired, but we must keep on walking. I walk alongside Knight through the trees that shelter us from the wind, and I wonder how long it will take until we get to the hut where we can stay for a few days. I hope my fitness will soon improve, because every part of my body is on fire.
It is now quiet enough to hear my loud breathing, and I slow down a bit to catch my breath. I look up at Knight, but I cannot tell if he is as tired as me or not. He does not seem to show it, or at least, he doesn't seem to be as much of a mess as me. I would quite like to stop and rest, but I can have days of that at the hut. I just focus on my breathing and footsteps to keep me going.
After a few minutes, I feel a bit better, and decide that it is time to use my voice again. "Did you have to walk through the Tearing Winds to get to me as we have just done?" I ask, wondering just how much of a journey Knight had to make. No wonder he seems to be finding it easier than me. "Do we have to encounter them much more?"
It's inevitable to avoid them forever now, but I hope that we don't have to cross plains like that very often. The winds are so strong, they feel like they are going to carry you away. After all this time, I refuse to be defeated by wind. I have spent so long battling human mistakes, I do not want nature, oh beautiful nature to become my enemy.
It is now quiet enough to hear my loud breathing, and I slow down a bit to catch my breath. I look up at Knight, but I cannot tell if he is as tired as me or not. He does not seem to show it, or at least, he doesn't seem to be as much of a mess as me. I would quite like to stop and rest, but I can have days of that at the hut. I just focus on my breathing and footsteps to keep me going.
After a few minutes, I feel a bit better, and decide that it is time to use my voice again. "Did you have to walk through the Tearing Winds to get to me as we have just done?" I ask, wondering just how much of a journey Knight had to make. No wonder he seems to be finding it easier than me. "Do we have to encounter them much more?"
It's inevitable to avoid them forever now, but I hope that we don't have to cross plains like that very often. The winds are so strong, they feel like they are going to carry you away. After all this time, I refuse to be defeated by wind. I have spent so long battling human mistakes, I do not want nature, oh beautiful nature to become my enemy.
The trees watch us from the horizon like a standing army, all bushets and thorns and skeletal branches, sticking out like the swords and spears of a dark legion, looming above him as they slowly approached. By now, I've given up trying to walk in any kind of dignified fashion and simply use my spear to support myself as much as possible; the screaming of the winds has faded now, but I am no less exhausted for it.
I tell myself to cheer up a little. At the very least, we are across the first of the plains; perhaps a few more hours, and we will reach the hermit's hut. From there, we can plan our route in more detail; once we have a safe place to rest, then we can scout a little and determine our fate in a more exact fashion.
"Did you have to walk through the Tearing Winds to get to me as we have just done?" she asks. "Do we have to encounter them much more?"
I sigh at the memories of what I have endured. A quick look at her, at the way her hair has been strewn about her head like some contorted birds' nest by the winds, the way her eyes seem bloody and haggard, the way every step staggers a little - she is in worse shape than I am. Given what I feel now, I consider it a miracle that she is still standing.
There is hope for you yet, mysterious Angel.
"I took a far more convoluted route," I say; a quick gesture behind me and she turns to look, gazing at the jagged teeth of rock in the distance. "The mountains and clouds shroud the Asylum until you are close, very close. Many times-" my fist clenches at the memory, and my voice takes on a terse strain, "-many times, I walked within perhaps a mile of it, and did not see it. We - with luck - will reach Winterhelm in two weeks, or perhaps a little less; but it has been two years since I set forth from there for the Asylum."
In retrospect, I muse, it is a miracle that I have not Broken. A testament to my own strength. That, if nothing else, gives me hope; perhaps a shadow of a flame still rests inside me, a few torn-up shreds of humanity still not fallen away. I glance at her again; for a moment, I witness it once more, and it almost makes me jump. A tiny glint in her eye, a tiny light, something unrecognisable. Perhaps it is just my imagination, I chide myself.
Or perhaps there truly is something about her...
I turn back, gazing into the jagged trees beyond, slowly tightening and thickening until they seem to form an impenetrable thicket. Denser than last time - unusual. But beyond the densest portion, I know, lies a clearing of a few hundred metres' diameter; and in that space, our refuge. A glance up at the sky - the sun has peaked beyond the steel-coloured clouds, but only just.
"We are through the flatlands; we have made better time than I expected. If we move fast, we may yet reach the hut before nightfall."
I tell myself to cheer up a little. At the very least, we are across the first of the plains; perhaps a few more hours, and we will reach the hermit's hut. From there, we can plan our route in more detail; once we have a safe place to rest, then we can scout a little and determine our fate in a more exact fashion.
"Did you have to walk through the Tearing Winds to get to me as we have just done?" she asks. "Do we have to encounter them much more?"
I sigh at the memories of what I have endured. A quick look at her, at the way her hair has been strewn about her head like some contorted birds' nest by the winds, the way her eyes seem bloody and haggard, the way every step staggers a little - she is in worse shape than I am. Given what I feel now, I consider it a miracle that she is still standing.
There is hope for you yet, mysterious Angel.
"I took a far more convoluted route," I say; a quick gesture behind me and she turns to look, gazing at the jagged teeth of rock in the distance. "The mountains and clouds shroud the Asylum until you are close, very close. Many times-" my fist clenches at the memory, and my voice takes on a terse strain, "-many times, I walked within perhaps a mile of it, and did not see it. We - with luck - will reach Winterhelm in two weeks, or perhaps a little less; but it has been two years since I set forth from there for the Asylum."
In retrospect, I muse, it is a miracle that I have not Broken. A testament to my own strength. That, if nothing else, gives me hope; perhaps a shadow of a flame still rests inside me, a few torn-up shreds of humanity still not fallen away. I glance at her again; for a moment, I witness it once more, and it almost makes me jump. A tiny glint in her eye, a tiny light, something unrecognisable. Perhaps it is just my imagination, I chide myself.
Or perhaps there truly is something about her...
I turn back, gazing into the jagged trees beyond, slowly tightening and thickening until they seem to form an impenetrable thicket. Denser than last time - unusual. But beyond the densest portion, I know, lies a clearing of a few hundred metres' diameter; and in that space, our refuge. A glance up at the sky - the sun has peaked beyond the steel-coloured clouds, but only just.
"We are through the flatlands; we have made better time than I expected. If we move fast, we may yet reach the hut before nightfall."
I turn to look where Knight indicates he went, and my eyes graze over the jagged rocks that block our horizon. It looks like he had a hell of a journey to find me - and was it really worth it? I could Break today, so could he - you just don't know what's around the corner anymore.
I wonder if we ever really did.
If I don't Break, I could just as easily be killed, and again, Knight's journey would have been for nothing. 2 years is a long time traveling somewhere that could have taken 2 weeks. I don't like to think that I have, or ever will waste that time he took to find me. I don't know why though, as time is not so much of the essence as it used to be. It is, however, still the reaper, and all good things must come to an end. Our world will die out some day, though if you think our current world is good then more fool you. Yet, I find myself contradicting this as I look around me. The world is still beautiful in its natural innocence, and it was man who brought our fate upon us. Considering that, can the world be a good thing?
If it is not, then Knight and I are going to change that. That is why I must stay alive, and I must not let myself fall prey to anything. Including any negative thinking of mine.
I nod at Knight's words and continue to walk, trying to take my mind off my aching muscles. The trees are a welcome shelter, a part of this world that houses many bad things, yet keeps me safe. Well, safe from the tearing winds. I hope that there are no creatures lurking among this dense thicket with their eyes on us. I want to stay alive.
I am starting to realise that I am not just doing this for myself, or the world. Part of my past self still remains, somewhere, and she wants to keep fighting for her deceased sister, a girl with no name to match her face, a girl long forgotten in this world. There is a fragment of my soul that wants to keep fighting for her sake. There is little to fuel her fire; I know nothing of her personality, nothing of what she did. Was she admirable? Or do I feel like this just because she was my sister?
There is also someone else that I am trekking across this vast, unpredictable world for. Knight. I am indebted to him for the time he took to find me, and for taking me with him even though I may not have been what he wanted. He saved me from a bleak future, and put me on the path to a different one. I can't die, I can't Break, I can't cut this journey off short. I have to stick around and help him. God knows that he helped me.
My own stubbornness will help me out here though. As well as all these things, I just refuse to cease to exist. I have just been let out of my cage, and I want to see the world. I am like a child on Christmas day - I just can't get enough of it. Even now, my eyes frantically flicker about and take everything in as we walk, though I am careful to keep my head still and observe only what is in my line of eyesight. I need to stay alert.
I wonder if we ever really did.
If I don't Break, I could just as easily be killed, and again, Knight's journey would have been for nothing. 2 years is a long time traveling somewhere that could have taken 2 weeks. I don't like to think that I have, or ever will waste that time he took to find me. I don't know why though, as time is not so much of the essence as it used to be. It is, however, still the reaper, and all good things must come to an end. Our world will die out some day, though if you think our current world is good then more fool you. Yet, I find myself contradicting this as I look around me. The world is still beautiful in its natural innocence, and it was man who brought our fate upon us. Considering that, can the world be a good thing?
If it is not, then Knight and I are going to change that. That is why I must stay alive, and I must not let myself fall prey to anything. Including any negative thinking of mine.
I nod at Knight's words and continue to walk, trying to take my mind off my aching muscles. The trees are a welcome shelter, a part of this world that houses many bad things, yet keeps me safe. Well, safe from the tearing winds. I hope that there are no creatures lurking among this dense thicket with their eyes on us. I want to stay alive.
I am starting to realise that I am not just doing this for myself, or the world. Part of my past self still remains, somewhere, and she wants to keep fighting for her deceased sister, a girl with no name to match her face, a girl long forgotten in this world. There is a fragment of my soul that wants to keep fighting for her sake. There is little to fuel her fire; I know nothing of her personality, nothing of what she did. Was she admirable? Or do I feel like this just because she was my sister?
There is also someone else that I am trekking across this vast, unpredictable world for. Knight. I am indebted to him for the time he took to find me, and for taking me with him even though I may not have been what he wanted. He saved me from a bleak future, and put me on the path to a different one. I can't die, I can't Break, I can't cut this journey off short. I have to stick around and help him. God knows that he helped me.
My own stubbornness will help me out here though. As well as all these things, I just refuse to cease to exist. I have just been let out of my cage, and I want to see the world. I am like a child on Christmas day - I just can't get enough of it. Even now, my eyes frantically flicker about and take everything in as we walk, though I am careful to keep my head still and observe only what is in my line of eyesight. I need to stay alert.
I realise, as we continue walking through the ice-brushed trees, that I once found this world beautiful.
At moments, I still do. This morning, seeing the rising sun; the day before, staring out at the sun from beyond the walls of the Asylum. But it's always fleeting, always momentary. A second passes, and the world is the drab, listless nightmare it has always been. Or rather - not always. I remember when I first arrived in this land - many, many years ago - I marvelled at the change from Nevria. So much quieter, so much more subdued... almost an elegance, in a way, to the endless fields of snow.
But no longer. Now, I only see death in the cold, only see pain in the snow. I see only myself reflected in the ice, cracked and warped and split-apart; I try to refrain from staring at ice, for that reason if no other. Reminds me too much of what I'll become. No more than cracked ice in human form, splitting and creaking as I walk, always desperately seeking an end, to simply shatter into a thousand pieces and melt away into nothing.
But I won't let that happen, I reaffirm to myself. If only because of the one beside me, I will not allow it to happen. I've cut down so many - I won't Break and add her to the list. I suppose that's her other great utility to me - as well as the necessary aid she will provide, she also gives me a reason to keep moving. Someone who will judge me as I act, someone to keep me motivated. Someone to flare up my pride.
How many people have I killed? It's a question I go over a lot, and still don't have an answer. Even discounting Broken from the list, the number must be in the hundreds at least, if not the thousands. I don't regret it - not most of it, at least. That was war, and I was a soldier. I simply did what I was intended to do.
But this is different. There are no more wars - nor will there ever be. There's simply not enough humans left. It's funny, I realise now - Gough always talked about wanting an end to war. I guess he didn't see war ending quite like this. Another of this world's bitter ironies.
I continue my walk, the trees closing around us; it is getting harder and harder to slip through the gaps. No matter, I tell myself - I do keep one hand resting close to the handle of my sword, though. We'll find a way through. Another quick glance up at the sky - it is darkening faster now. Faster than it should.
It can't be...
If this world is truly breaking down... I was told, long ago, by a sorcerer that it would happen. That when mankind finally faded away, and took his perception of the world with it, there would be nothing; that things would slowly break down. The sorcerer was mad, of course - tried to incinerate me a few minutes later. But what if he was on to something? What if this reality was starting to behave unpredictably, our so-firm reality starting to crack and Break, just as we do?
I quicken my pace a little. We need to make it to the hut before nightfall. A glance to her - I am unsure if she will survive another night out here in the cold. Already, the faintest shivers have begun to take her body.
"Are you okay?" I check quickly, deciding not to let on my suspicions about the state of the world. Perhaps it is just my imagination. I need to keep a handle on that - if I Break, it's all over. I must force myself away from despair, if only for the few months it will take us to complete this last, great work.
But who knows?
Breaking might solve quite a bit...
At moments, I still do. This morning, seeing the rising sun; the day before, staring out at the sun from beyond the walls of the Asylum. But it's always fleeting, always momentary. A second passes, and the world is the drab, listless nightmare it has always been. Or rather - not always. I remember when I first arrived in this land - many, many years ago - I marvelled at the change from Nevria. So much quieter, so much more subdued... almost an elegance, in a way, to the endless fields of snow.
But no longer. Now, I only see death in the cold, only see pain in the snow. I see only myself reflected in the ice, cracked and warped and split-apart; I try to refrain from staring at ice, for that reason if no other. Reminds me too much of what I'll become. No more than cracked ice in human form, splitting and creaking as I walk, always desperately seeking an end, to simply shatter into a thousand pieces and melt away into nothing.
But I won't let that happen, I reaffirm to myself. If only because of the one beside me, I will not allow it to happen. I've cut down so many - I won't Break and add her to the list. I suppose that's her other great utility to me - as well as the necessary aid she will provide, she also gives me a reason to keep moving. Someone who will judge me as I act, someone to keep me motivated. Someone to flare up my pride.
How many people have I killed? It's a question I go over a lot, and still don't have an answer. Even discounting Broken from the list, the number must be in the hundreds at least, if not the thousands. I don't regret it - not most of it, at least. That was war, and I was a soldier. I simply did what I was intended to do.
But this is different. There are no more wars - nor will there ever be. There's simply not enough humans left. It's funny, I realise now - Gough always talked about wanting an end to war. I guess he didn't see war ending quite like this. Another of this world's bitter ironies.
I continue my walk, the trees closing around us; it is getting harder and harder to slip through the gaps. No matter, I tell myself - I do keep one hand resting close to the handle of my sword, though. We'll find a way through. Another quick glance up at the sky - it is darkening faster now. Faster than it should.
It can't be...
If this world is truly breaking down... I was told, long ago, by a sorcerer that it would happen. That when mankind finally faded away, and took his perception of the world with it, there would be nothing; that things would slowly break down. The sorcerer was mad, of course - tried to incinerate me a few minutes later. But what if he was on to something? What if this reality was starting to behave unpredictably, our so-firm reality starting to crack and Break, just as we do?
I quicken my pace a little. We need to make it to the hut before nightfall. A glance to her - I am unsure if she will survive another night out here in the cold. Already, the faintest shivers have begun to take her body.
"Are you okay?" I check quickly, deciding not to let on my suspicions about the state of the world. Perhaps it is just my imagination. I need to keep a handle on that - if I Break, it's all over. I must force myself away from despair, if only for the few months it will take us to complete this last, great work.
But who knows?
Breaking might solve quite a bit...
- 65 posts here • Page 3 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
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View All » Add Character » 2 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
The Knight
"It's not a question of life or death, it's a question of what falls first - your humanity, or the obstacles in your way."
The Angel
"I will not fade away. I must not let myself fade away."
Trending
The Angel
"I will not fade away. I must not let myself fade away."
The Knight
"It's not a question of life or death, it's a question of what falls first - your humanity, or the obstacles in your way."
Most Followed
The Angel
"I will not fade away. I must not let myself fade away."
The Knight
"It's not a question of life or death, it's a question of what falls first - your humanity, or the obstacles in your way."
View All » Places
28 posts · 2 characters present · last post 2014-06-23 22:59:26 »
An icy wasteland of jagged peaks and tearing winds. Free of demons though it is, few dare to survive here.
24 posts · 0 characters present · last post 2014-05-09 14:51:21 »
Helladhell ↪ The Asylum Owner: Zero Reaper
An ancient castle built to contain the Broken while a cure was made. With all hope of a cure long gone, here the Broken remain - trapped, to await the end of the world...
0 posts · 0 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
Helladhell ↪ Winterhelm Owner: Zero Reaper
Once a great city; now a crumbling, archaic ruin. Most of Helladhell's few remaining humans eke out a meagre existence here.
0 posts · 0 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
Helladhell ↪ Hermit's Hut Owner: Zero Reaper
A mysterious hut in the middle of the snowy wasteland; inside, lie blankets and food. It seems as though someone created this place to give hope to the future.
Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » The Knight and the Angel: Out of Character
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The Knight and the Angel - 1x1
by Zero Reaper on Wed Apr 23, 2014 10:26 am
- 12 Replies
- 712 Views
- Last post by Beffiye
on Mon Apr 28, 2014 11:06 am
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The Knight and the Angel - 1x1
Most recent OOC posts in The Knight and the Angel
Re: The Knight and the Angel - 1x1
I think I'll wait another three days before making my choice, everyone. Anyone who wants to submit samples until then, go ahead! I can't wait to read them.
Re: The Knight and the Angel - 1x1
I don't seem to be able to PM (anyone know why?) but thanks Zero :D
Re: The Knight and the Angel - 1x1
Not a character sheet - rather, a writing sample. Simply take the framework I have given you for her character, and write something from it - anything you please! A scene, a dialogue, anything works.
Re: The Knight and the Angel - 1x1
Could you pm me a a character sheet or a guideline of some sort please. Just so I know what sort of thigs yu are looking for. My thanks.
Re: The Knight and the Angel - 1x1
@Forget~Me~Not: I chose it because it made a very Nordic-sounding name for a very old city. My actual inspiration (in name and aesthetic) was Winterfell from Game of Thrones, but I can easily see how you'd make the connection with Skyrim (Helladhell is broadly a very Skyrim-esque region).
@Eleera: Sure! Throw up a character whenever you feel like it!
@Eleera: Sure! Throw up a character whenever you feel like it!
Re: The Knight and the Angel - 1x1
Hello, I would like to submit a character for angel please. I could have het within the next day or two.
:)
:)
Re: The Knight and the Angel - 1x1
I just want to say, this rp made me nerd out so hard... and for a silly reason. "Winterhelm" XD It's my two fav cities in Skyrim combined! (and What I used to call Windhelm for awhile *Blush*)
Bravo! and Good Luck!
Bravo! and Good Luck!
Re: The Knight and the Angel - 1x1
Alright. Well, already got a couple applicants (and even one writing sample!), so I think I'll give everyone a few days to contribute their samples before deciding on who I want to RP with. Thank you all for your interest!
Re: The Knight and the Angel - 1x1
I on the other hand love this and would like to play the Angel if that's all right.
Re: The Knight and the Angel - 1x1
Wow. The setting's Dark Souls as fuck. I dig it, but certain components of the storyline itself preclude me from joining. Alas.
The Knight and the Angel - 1x1
All those who wish to join this roleplay, please see the information here first -
http://www.roleplaygateway.com/the-knight-and-the-angel-1x1-female-needed-t89921.html#p1984500
http://www.roleplaygateway.com/the-knight-and-the-angel-1x1-female-needed-t89921.html#p1984500