RP Co-written by Suno_Regin and Rigwyn As Zalloh stared at the howling well, a small, tan moth fluttered by her face. It was the same color as the tent that she stayed in when she first camped out in the wilderness outside of Ojaveda. It was her first home away from home and her first sign of independence. She had slipped away in the middle of the night to flee from her husband who had abused her to the point of insanity. Knowing that he would come after her, she was careful not to take residence in any of the major cities. The wilderness, as far as she was concerned, was more natural, and this put her closer to her goddess.
The memory, as pleasant as it started, took on a darker tone as she recalled the morning where she had awakened to the scent of burnt firewood and the distant clanging of miners digging for iron, only to find something stuffed beneath her pillow. Curiously, she had given it a pinch and a pull only to find a balled up note. When she unraveled it, she found a crushed starphire - small, fragile and blue. Puzzled, she read the note. It read:
"My little starphire, do you really think that I shall fail to find you? Do you have any idea how weak and vulnerable you are? You will return by tonight, or I will punish you like never before."
Tears welled up in her eyes as she recalled her flight. With only the clothes on her back, she fled - leaving everything behind. It was the first and least of many such encounters - each progressively more fearsome and painful.
One cycle ago - In the Black Flame Temple
The sweet aroma of aged leaves burned as a single glowing ember covered in ash grew bright - revealing a silhouette beneath a black, velvet hood - held together at the neck with a golden clasp shaped like a strained hand. The black, iron lanterns on the rough, stone walls cast licks of orange light that made his shadow dance and twist upon the floor. The hooded man stood by the aged bookshelf and stared at the door as it creaked. Before long, a figure cloaked in darkness slipped in.
He knew exactly who it was. "Geriah," the hooded man called out. "I've heard much about you and your work. It's been said countless times that you are quick to think, are thorough in your work, and always careful to cover your tracks. I have need for your service - just a simple task." He paused to smile, then held out a sack. "There is a drawing of a woman's face in this bag. Study it and destroy it, then seek her out. Show her pain and suffering, but do not kill her. When you depart, leave her with this simple gift. Come back when you are done, and we will discuss... greater things."
Two days later
Though grateful for the room at Kada-El's that was paid for on her behalf, Zalloh sat up in bed as she stared out the window. She could hear the whisper of the wind, and the distant rustling of the trees as the throbbing pain in her leg felt like it would explode. She'd not even expected the shot of laka she'd done earlier to completely dull the pain - she merely hoped that it would get her through the night.
No longer able to tolerate it, she put on her clothes and boots, then stepped outside. The walk to Levrus' shop was not all that long, but she dreaded walking alone at night - especially on roads such as these, where bandits and thieves hid with knives and daggers drawn just waiting to prey upon the weak. She had only two hexas left with which to purchase a salve, and no means of earning more tria. Wanting to reduce her chances of being robbed for everything she had, she put one hexa in her boot, and kept the other in her pocket.
The guards by the north gate stood as still as carved toy soldiers - ready to strike at a moment's notice. Though the comfort that they afforded quickly diminished as she passed them and crept along the twisted, dark road that disappeared into the dark of night.
The further she walked, the more visible a peculiar light emanating from the trees could be seen. Her shadow raced behind her, stretching almost as far as the gate from which she had departed. It could have been a campfire had it not been for the light's sheer magnitude; but perhaps it was a beacon to light the way to the magic shop for hardy travelers in the depth of night. Without warning, Zalloh's shadow contracted and arose from the ground, gliding closely through the ground behind her as she took each and every step - until striking her bluntly in the back of the head.
Exploding forth was a sharp, white pain, followed by a warm, tingling rush. Barely having time to extend her hands, she fell face down in the dirt - her knees and palms scraped red from the fall. She lifted her head and looked up - too shocked to scream, too scared to look behind her... and there he was.
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The light having diminished, Geriah walked calmly toward her, his face masked and features distorted. Distorted of course, by magic. The figure looked as muscular as a hardened knight, but demonic as something from the Death Realm itself. Cloaked as he was, he seemed as a very messenger of death. Looking down upon her in fake pity, he spoke, his voice rigorously deep, "You will pay the price."
Hesitantly, she began to turn her head as he spoke. Her glazed, blood twinged lips quivered uncontrollably as she tried to lift herself from the ground. With eyes forced wide with fright, her jaw dropped as she fought to force out a pleading, "No!" but she was too shaken to take a breath. As she managed to wail, the base of Geriah's boot landed flush against her face - forcing the back of her head back into the sand.
The cloaked man raised his hand toward Zalloh's side, away from her - and a burst of flames shot forth, igniting the foliage on the side of the road - just enough to spawn another shadow on her opposite side. Geriah kicked his boot under the woman's shoulder and turned her over, just as the shadow sprung from the ground, clenched both of its hands together, and repeated this motion while bringing them down like a bludgeon at her exposed gut. Geriah moved to the side as her own shadow bombarded her, and he started kicking at her sides between the breaks, making sure not to exert too much energy in case he would have the need to escape. He wanted to make sure she was left with every rib broken.
Zalloh kicked and screamed as streams of tears left blackened trails along her scraped cheeks. She grabbed at a nearby branch and pulled as her toes dug into the sandy soil, but with each kick she was forced to let go again to her dismay. She tried to roll over but could not. The sound of her ribs snapping marked each hateful blow as the shadow continued to destroy her ribcage. She screamed at the top of
her lungs with a gurgling hiss, "Xiosia help me! Please!" but was met with an even more ferocious pounding than before as blood trickled from her lips.
But then he stopped. "So, you pray to Xiosia?" he spoke, grinning beneath his mask. "Well here, this is from her. Or rather, from someone who actually deserves such mercy. Unlike you." With one final, brutal kick to the side, Geriah then kneeled down as the shadow grabbed at Zalloh's face to hold her mouth open. He pulled a flower from his belt - a starphire - and making sure she got a good glimpse of it between her mottled screams, he placed it stem-first into her mouth, being met with spits and bellows to remove the thing. The shadow receding back to its place at Zalloh's side, Geriah hastily disappeared back into the forest, his form clearly shrinking with his spells finally wearing off.
Lying helpless on the ground, Zalloh's mind was flooded with pain and panic, her abdomen painfully moved as she struggled to take in air. Too hurt to scream, she laid on her back and cried alone in the dark, hoping and praying to Xiosia that her misery would end. But the end did not come.
