ActionsPageDiscussionView sourceHistoryRuka - After The Fall

   It was over. Ruka still felt that idea was not fully established in her mind. A week had passed since the attack on Nethas Gyril, after which Avalons Finest had gone their separate ways to recuperate and prepare for whatever might come next. A week since not one, but three of the Sons of Tiamat had fallen. A week since Amund, the lord of ice himself, was slain by her own hand.

   She sat in front of a series of aquatic caves, a place once protected as sacred by the Valesar. The wind ruffled her pale pink robe as she gazed across the frosted rolling hills. The setting sun glinted red off her white-blonde hair which shaded her glimmering skin. In the distance, Heiken was still pushing himself through muscle training, with the zeal of a madman trying not to think.

   It was over, yet here she was. Continuing to push herself through even more rigorous training than ever before. Seeking to attain even greater strength. But… for what? Her focus, the very core that held her together when her mind had nothing else left, was gone. She thought that she should feel something from this. Relief? Elation? Simple happiness that those she cared about would no longer have a directed threat in their land? No, none of those came to comfort her. All she felt was… deflated. Empty.

   What was left to fill that emptiness? Only that which had haunted her every night since that fateful day at Red Lake. Festering, growing, strangling. Each and every failure adding its pitch black drop to the bucket of her madness. Until she was nothing but a malleable conduit to murder those that considered her a friend. How long would it be before her mind was twisted again to do the bidding of a puppet master? Would it even take any external interference? Thoughts that came unbidden to her mind frightened her beyond comprehension. Was that really her? Could she truly be capable of such?

   Shaking her head with a troubled look, she rose and entered the caves behind her. Slipping through curtains she had replaced when she returned a few days ago, she arrived in a smaller room with a steaming pool in the center. Moments later, she was settled in up to her eyes. Watching the sun rays dance across the steamy haze should have been relaxing. But no peace was to be found there. The heat and minerals did begin to help loosen muscles, but they could not penetrate the soul.

   When had her life begun to change for the worse? It could be argued that it all began when Chorazin fell. And for some time, she would have agreed. Yet, when she was forced to consider, her conscious already knew that wasn’t so. It was her decisions, her inflated ego, her own sheer lack of capacity that caused her to lose her mentor. Maybe it was when Chorazin first arrived in Anoria. She would have never left home, never had dreams of liberating, never been exposed to such abject horror. Perhaps this was all his fault. But nay, even before then she could not understand her station, the part that nature had dictated she play. A simple, rural girl, doing her duty to support the village. No, she desired what wasn’t hers, a life as a Corthalian, flitting away the days with illusions of grandeur that she could change people with petty little choruses. It was from birth. Her capability was set and yet she took more. And what happens when limited capacity grasps beyond its means? People die. Demons are loosed to walk the world. Evil thought vanquished tucks safely away to soon return. Pure evil spawns, wearing the mask of a friendly face.

   Half an hour later, she again stood outside, in a natural cul-de-sac several hundred feet down the ridge. The lightly graded hills that led to a sudden steep incline into the mountains made for nature's own theater. By now, the sun had completely set and only a slim crescent of the waning moon lit the area. Stepping up on a slab of stone in the center of the ring, she felt the barest pull of longing. Holding up a hand, she began to focus and the sheltered ring began to shimmer. Soon the area around had become a full amphitheater. Her control over the hereditary magic she was pulling on here was still quite tenuous, however. Some holes could be seen in the stands, the crowd was dark blobs with no features, among other mishaps. But she didn’t care, it fit her soul. Harsh music from part of a song she had heard once began to reverberate off the walls.

   Where did it go? My peaceful youth, Seems to be gone forever.
   And in its place, A life of war…

   The words came out more of a whisper than sung on note. A traveling group had performed this among several other songs. She had not particularly liked the musical style presented. But she had stuck around in order to hear something starkly different from styles performed around Ravinspear. Perhaps she could find some inspiration since her style was also uncommon. At the time, she hadn’t gotten anything from the experience, didn’t care to remember it. But now… Now she wondered if she had more in common with them than with people she was once close to. The air around her warped and her clothes were replaced with a long black and crimson cloak.

   Lost and blind; Seems our dreams of peace have all been left behind.
   It's always said white clouds aren't always silver lined,
   But the future's looking bleak, And the storm is set to rise.

   Her voice was found for this section, though she held back on projection. She started as she noticed a figure shift near the entrance. Ah, must have disturbed Heikens training. Her expression wore a thin line as she left the stage and approached Heiken. He gave her a questioning look, but she simply shook her head and said, “It’s late, we need to rest. Training continues first thing in the morning.” Through the meister bond, Heiken could feel a resolution had been set. Inside Ruka’s head, the final phrase from the song echoed, as she raised a hand and snapped her fingers, shattering the illusions into shards and sending them drifting away into the wind.

   Farewell to days of peace 'cause now it's time to die.