[img]https://i.imgur.com/5F6mhTC.jpg[/img]
121st of Vhalar, 717
Ilinis hadn’t expected the creature to actually produce a bowl of water to help his minor burn. He certainly hadn’t expected the screaming. They filled his mind, threatening to suffocate his psyche. She had been telling the truth the whole time; she had actually wanted peace. The screaming continued, and he held his hands over his ears. He shouted, “Make it stop!”
He could still hear them. He pressed his hands harder, they dug their way through. He had been wrong. This wasn’t worth it. He had thought she would consumed by the fire instantly and her death would be nearly painless because of her small stature. He should have never made the choice he did. She could still be there with him, and they could be working together to obtain the halo for Edasha.
Finally, the screams stopped. All that remained was ash and the blackened branches of the hedge. He saw clearly that the hedge itself had wound around the creature, trapping her there and forcing her to suffer the lick of the flame. It was his fault. He felt his body walking forward to take the blackened tiles that had fallen as the vines of the maze consumed her corpse. What did this all matter? It wasn’t worth it.
He sobbed. He had never taken a life before, and books always made it sound so easy and quick. It was always something like “the hero drove the blade deep into his enemy’s chest”, and then the hero would move on with their life. But the books never spoke of the way the blade sounded when it forced its way into flesh. It never spoke of the noise of suction and the cries of the opponent. He would give anything to go back to that moment with Edasha and tell her that he would not, in fact, be her champion. How cruel was she to put them in this? That she would want her champions to end another’s life so cruelly?
He eventually found his way back to the center of the maze, and he refused to make eye contact with those gathered. He was confused for a moment why the Avriel was there. He realized he didn’t care. As the tiles floated and spelled the word “dream”, he realized he didn’t care.
He began to grow angry. This was Edasha’s fault. All of this. She had made him kill the innocent creature. She had put them here to begin with. Gone was the thought of using the halo for himself, and then giving it to her. If he obtained it, it was his alone.
He moved forward as the Game’s Mistress asked, and was presented with the next task. Chance. It was a damn game of chance. He couldn’t help but chuckle. The Immortal must be twisted to have a game of death, and then have victory rely on chance alone. Ilinis tried to avoid eye contract with his teammates and the Avriel. He strode to the pedestal and snatched the halo from pedestal two.
He hoped it would be the true one so that he could wield its power. If not, he was ready to go home and forgot the whole thing. He would have a few bottles of wine. Then he would figure out how to deal with Edasha.
He could still hear them. He pressed his hands harder, they dug their way through. He had been wrong. This wasn’t worth it. He had thought she would consumed by the fire instantly and her death would be nearly painless because of her small stature. He should have never made the choice he did. She could still be there with him, and they could be working together to obtain the halo for Edasha.
Finally, the screams stopped. All that remained was ash and the blackened branches of the hedge. He saw clearly that the hedge itself had wound around the creature, trapping her there and forcing her to suffer the lick of the flame. It was his fault. He felt his body walking forward to take the blackened tiles that had fallen as the vines of the maze consumed her corpse. What did this all matter? It wasn’t worth it.
He sobbed. He had never taken a life before, and books always made it sound so easy and quick. It was always something like “the hero drove the blade deep into his enemy’s chest”, and then the hero would move on with their life. But the books never spoke of the way the blade sounded when it forced its way into flesh. It never spoke of the noise of suction and the cries of the opponent. He would give anything to go back to that moment with Edasha and tell her that he would not, in fact, be her champion. How cruel was she to put them in this? That she would want her champions to end another’s life so cruelly?
He eventually found his way back to the center of the maze, and he refused to make eye contact with those gathered. He was confused for a moment why the Avriel was there. He realized he didn’t care. As the tiles floated and spelled the word “dream”, he realized he didn’t care.
He began to grow angry. This was Edasha’s fault. All of this. She had made him kill the innocent creature. She had put them here to begin with. Gone was the thought of using the halo for himself, and then giving it to her. If he obtained it, it was his alone.
He moved forward as the Game’s Mistress asked, and was presented with the next task. Chance. It was a damn game of chance. He couldn’t help but chuckle. The Immortal must be twisted to have a game of death, and then have victory rely on chance alone. Ilinis tried to avoid eye contract with his teammates and the Avriel. He strode to the pedestal and snatched the halo from pedestal two.
He hoped it would be the true one so that he could wield its power. If not, he was ready to go home and forgot the whole thing. He would have a few bottles of wine. Then he would figure out how to deal with Edasha.
