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Lunarre Overcomes
@ufemew-wexub
Lunarre had never felt such erratic malevolence before. Of course, he had not lived as a seraph for little more than three years, but he had encountered enough of the corrupting matter to know just how different this feeling was.
The malevolence was maddeningly hard to pin down. It was not a steady flow of intensity; it fluctuated, rising suffocatingly high only to drop suddenly as if smothered. There was little doubt in Lunarre’s mind that he was dealing with someone - or something - clinging onto sanity with everything they had.
The struggle was so palpable that it made the act of walking feel like wading through mud. As Lunarre gazed up at the black ragged peaks of Rayfalke Spiritcrest, he wondered if he had finally bitten off more than he could chew.
Nevertheless the seraph pushed on, fighting attacks of breathlessness as he climbed further up the mountainside. Guided by the malevolence, he made straight for the source.
ufemew-wexub
| ☠️ | His presence alone is enough to frighten visitors off, his element being clouded in malevolence and fluctuating in such levels even humanity could feel it at times. Other seraphim were not fool enough to approach him, tales and stories weaved keeping them in place, far away from the dark and jagged peaks of this mountain. The few who did try either ran in terror, or were forced to.
There is an ease to recognizing a presence on his mountain, and he lifts his head, eyes fluttering open, and narrowing into slits. There was a difference to this seraph unlike the others, a younger more innocent aura to them.
All the more fool to have started this climb.
He stands, the unsteady flood of malevolence spiking with motion, and he hisses, shaking his head and barging his way out of his hollow, the cave of his home. Wings unfurl from his back, steps loud and almost thunderous as he paces to the edge of the nearest peak, and peers over, perching himself there, and glowering down.
“Just what do you think you are doing?” His shout carries far, words stern, questioning, albeit strained. There is a control to how he does not jump down, claws ready to strike into the intruder and send him scurrying off.
“You are not welcome here!”
Lunarre froze in his tracks as he felt a sudden shift in the malevolence. It was difficult to breathe. He was so close now - a confrontation was inevitable.
He heard the faint sound of pounding feet on stone on the peaks above, and he tensed, waiting for the creature to show itself.
What peered over the edge of the nearest peak above his head stunned Lunarre so much he couldn’t cry out, though the sudden boom of the creature’s voice made him flinch. He had heard talk from the villages he had passed on his way here that a dragon lurked in the mountains.
They were partly right; the creature - a seraph - glaring down at him had once been a dragon. The seraph had since been purified, but the stifling malevolence told Lunarre that he was far from out of the woods. The seraph’s skin was broken up by smatterings of scales, ferocious horns adorned his head, and claws glinted wickedly at his fingertips. And those blazing eyes...
He’d been purified, but...
It was difficult to tell just by the sensation whether the malevolence was coming from the seraph or some outside force. Lunarre wouldn’t know unless he asked, but that would have to wait if he wanted to stay alive.
His legs were shaking, but he refused to run. He didn’t know why he felt as strongly as he did, but it wasn’t important.
“I’m not your enemy!” he called up, lifting both hands in an appeasing gesture. “I’m Lunarre! I felt your malevolence - I want to help you!”
Lunarre Overcomes
ufemew-wexub
| ☠️ | Help him…? Help… Him? The words strike with a genuinity, and despite the heavy fog of malevolence upon himself, Eizen feels a sharp strike of clarity. He couldn’t remember a time wherein someone had offered him aid, as opposed to the differing side, wishing to rid of him, attempting to destroy him, or running in fear.
Yet the positives are quick to drown in the quicksand of the darkness clouding his mind and his body, and he chuckles instead, softly at first and then much louder.
Help him?!
He remains where he is, wondering just how much closer he could get before the malevolence would suck that young and foolish seraph whole, how much longer until he would come to regret this mistake, question just how he thought it possible to help someone, something who had become like this.
“Hahahah- That’s rich! How foolish can you be?! Not even The Shepard himself could save this wretched soul! What’s become of it, is this! How can you possibly help this?!”
His eyes narrow dangerously, anger pulsing in his veins, the influence of malice pounding in his chest.
Lunarre? He knew of no Lunarre, and knew of no legends or anything that could possibly connect to that name, and whether or not his memories were built upon a haze or not, there was no way for an ordinary seraph to do anything, when even the Prime Lord and Shepard could not.
“Give up, and go back whence you came! I will never accept your help!” He pounds a foot against the earth, jagged and spilling coils of earth rising around him.
“Do so before I cannot hold myself back from destroying you.”
What should I do?
Lunarre’s hopes had been briefly lifted as the heavy malevolence seemed to wane, but no sooner had it done so the choking darkness redoubled its power and he had to retreat for air.
The seraph could easily destroy him. Lunarre would put up a good fight, as always, but the chasm of strength and experience separating them sealed his fate as the loser.
Yet, struggling to breathe, Lunarre remained where he was. Motionless, he kept his gaze locked on the draconic eyes of the seraph above him. He knew a fight was suicide, and that the chances of a conversation were slim and the chances of a conversation going well was even slimmer, yet Lunarre had no will to run.
Lunarre knew he had once been human. He had ‘awoken’ as a seraph fully grown, rather than grow from babyhood, and his lack of experience or control over his newfound abilities, despite being fully grown, confirmed his status to the seraphim he encountered on his travels. Through their help, and lots of practice, Lunarre had learned quickly - so quickly the others would often wonder if his aptitude was on account of his past life. Not that he remembered any of it.
“The Shepherd can’t do everything!” he shouted back. “I might be a young’un, but even I know his powers have limits. But!” He put great emphasis on the ‘but’. “That’s not where it ends! I might not remember my human life at all... but I just can’t leave a guy like you alone.” He grinned. “I’m a stubborn sonavabitch.”
His grin faded and he became sobre once more.
“Look - I reckon my true name ain’t Mowavu Ivuriluk for nothin’. I overcame trials, whatever they were, and whatever help I got, in the end it was me that did it. No Shepherd came and poofed my problems away.” Lunarre conjured up a puff of blue flame to illustrate his point. [His fire was blue, unlike the other fire seraphim he had encountered, for reasons as yet unknown.] “Most times it just doesn’t work that way. Sometimes the trouble’s just too big. But that doesn’t mean you’re finished. It doesn’t mean you get to hole yourself up in a cave and suffer alone.”
Lunarre took a deep breath. It was taking a lot out of him just to talk so much in such thick malevolence.
“I might be way in over my head. I might be crazy. But damnit, somethin’ in me just won’t let me walk back down this mountain. I get the feeling this is the sort of thing I got reborn for. If that means you destroy me, then fair enough. It’d just mean I had no business carryin’ on as a seraph. But until then - I ain’t giving up on you!”
With no more to say, Lunarre doubled over panting like a dog in the merciless summer sun, waiting for the seraph’s response.
Lunarre Overcomes