Into the Nyx of It {Paragon}

[Thimryl]

89th of Glade, Year 125, A.o.S

➸ The warmth of Glade was well received by the now free soldier. This morning, Thimryl found himself at his family home by the water. Since his family was now merchants and ran a shipping company, it was only natural that they lived near the water. He had been along the beaches of Limánia. His family was still away on business, traveling to the many port cities to exchange their goods and procure new ones to sell upon returning home, so he decided to keep himself occupied with training. He didnt want to lose any of the skill and technique he had acquired up till now.

Thimryl was fairly used to wielding a blade now and felt confident in his ability to use it effectively in battle. He was good with it now, having used it in training, and during sparring matches he had while still enlisted. Even so, he didnt want to lack in his training, as the words of Arcas echoed in his mind as he practiced his techniques with the pact weapon. It helped to keep his mind and his body sharp. He was focused on the way it looked and being as strong yet graceful as he trained, practicing sword swings and flourishes, trying to make them as graceful as a bird in flight in nature. It was like any other day for the young elf, slowly working his way through the set of sword techniques he had developed.

As he went about his combative maneuvers, there was a distinct boom that came from behind his home, but it seemed as if he was the only one who heard it. Startled by the sound and the pressure he felt when it happened, he thought that his family home was under attack. Hastily, he ran out behind the home and saw it, a mystifying portal. It seemed to have exploded the storage shed that was normally used for any good meant to be destroyed, and he watched as debris and things were being yanked into the portal. It was strange and overwhelming, as he could feel as if something was lurking just beyond the surface of the dark portal, tugging on his subconscious to come closer.

As much as he didn't want to venture forth, his curiosity got the better of him as it always did, and he ran back inside. If he was going to go into a portal to who knows where, he needed to be prepared. Finding a storage chest within his parents' room, he "borrowed" a first-aid kit, and some supplies, along with a handful of throwing knives just in case. Putting all of the stuff into a makeshift bag, he rushed back outside where the portal was. A hesitant hand reached out to the portal, but before he knew it, he was pulled violently into the darkness of the portal itself. ➸

"Common Speech"
"Mythrasi Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Paragon]

Falling.

The sensation was one, at first, of weightlessness. Spinning haplessly in an empty and endless darkness. There was no light. There was no marker to determine where or when he was. There was only darkness. A primordial shadow, vast and inescapable.

And then there was ground.

First came the physical.

Hard earth. Uncomfortable. Something was poking into Thimryl's thigh. Something else was prodding into his forehead. After a breath, he would be able to open his eyes. With that breath came a dryness that bespoke of a decided lack of moisture in the air.

Now came the visual.

Looking around, he was surrounded by a forest of dead trees. Gnarled and twisted branches reached agonizingly toward a sky that was an oily black. Pinpricks of light dotted the blackened heavens, some of them winking in and out of existence like eyes blinking in the far distance.

Then came the sounds.

A dry breeze whispered across dead soil, picking up earth and dirt along the way. It carried with it not the sounds of night…but silence. There was no chirping of insects or hooting of owls. In the distance there came only the yawning croak of something.

Last to come were the smells.

Dirt. The distinct absence of anything floral or natural. None of the smell of decay from fungus growing on rotting wood. None of the perfume from flowers blooming in the carefully manicured gardens of Sol'Valen. A forest surrounded Thimryl but it stood devoid of anything that came with the nature of wildlife. It was just empty.

Still.

Quiet.

Empty.

Until it wasn't.

Something moved in the darkness.

[Thimryl]

89th of Glade, Year 125, A.o.S

➸ The initial feeling Thimryl could recognize was being in complete emptiness. Silence and an overwhelming sense of dread filled his form as he fell for what felt like an eternity. He couldnt tell which way was up or down, left or right from how disoriented he was from the falling. Then the sensation of solid ground came to him. Things seemed to poke and prod him as he struggled to open his eyes, but when he could, it came with a gasp for air like a traveler in the desert grasping for a glass of water.

As he blinked and looked around, he found he couldnt place where he was, as it was unlike any forest he had ever seen before. Surely unlike the lush and vibrant greens of Sol'velen's surrounding forests and valleys. It was hard to focus on the forest and the outline of trees; the night sky was so black it felt like looking up at a cover over the eyes with tiny holes of starlight. The smell of death spurred the thought that maybe he had fallen into a doorway to the underworld, that Wraeden had taken him. What scared him most, however, was the sound of something.......something he would rather not meet in the distance.

He went to call forth his pact weapon, but couldnt feel its pulse in his soul. Attempt after attempt, he could see that it would cost far more aether than normal to call his pact weapon, let alone maintain its physical form. It felt like being dehydrated of aether with every try. It was this realization that sent a dreadful chill up his spine, triggering his fight-or-flight instincts. Choosing the latter, he took off in the direction away from the sounds that seemed to be moving now. "By the gods, where am I?" he questioned internally. ➸

"Common Speech"
"Mythrasi Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Paragon]

Pale grey fog began to creep in at the edges of Thimryl's peripheral. The sound of rustling and the crunch of dead leaves blowing in a soft breeze came. The dead trees of the forest around him stood as sentinels blocking his path. No clear direction presented itself. The further he ran, the denser the fog became until Thimryl could not see more than a few feet in front of him. Gnarled roots seemed to impede his progress, as though the dead forest was placing obstacles in his path in an attempt to slow his dash away from the encroaching danger.

Icy chill crept into the area, enough for breath to frost in the air. All the while, the feeling that whatever was following Thimryl was only getting closer. It breathed down his neck.

Creaking.

That was the sound that floated to Thimryl's ears. Like the noise of heavy branches swaying in the wind.

The sensation of something reaching out for him grew more imminent.

There was no hiss or grunt.

There was no shriek of a ravenous beast ready to slice Thimryl with its claws.

There was only Thimryl's heavy breathing, the pounding of his heartbeat in his own ears, and the oppressive silence that weighed down on the world around him.

And then the creaking.

The sound of footsteps came from Thimryl's left before something or rather, someone, slammed roughly into him. Thimryl was abruptly shoved off the path he had been running, he was grabbed, and with a forceful tug, he was yanked behind the trunk of a withered tree.

[Zayn]

Z A Y N

Zayn crouched down, picking up the arrow that he had loosed at the wasteland beast that he had been hunting. He sighed in frustration, having missed his mark by a fairly wide margin that was embarrassing to think about. His mind had been wandering. While he should have chided himself for being somewhat absentminded outside the walls, he could not blame himself.

Something lurked in the wastes. Something he could not place. It stalked the edges of his thoughts. It remained an uneasy awareness on the horizon of his senses. The feeling of impending doom that had no specific focus, merely a general sense. He was not so attuned to the Darkfather's gift that he could discern more than a superficial feeling, but the black markings winding around the back of his right hand felt colder than normal.

The shadows were restless. That never boded well.

Tucking his arrow back into his quiver, he rose from his crouch, intent on calling it a day. He looked back over his shoulder. The golden lamps were beginning to dim. Soon the violet lamps would be ignited and it would become exponentially more dangerous to be outside the protection of the walls. Turning on his heel he began to walk back in the direction of the city. As he walked, he began taking a mental note of the tasks that awaited him once he got home. He was mid-stride when the world went quiet. Not the silence of wilderness away from the bustle of civilization.

Silence. Oppressive silence.

Immediately the hairs on the back of Zayn's neck stood on end. He felt tension building at the base of his spine. Looking around he saw the fog beginning to roll in. His eyes went to the lamps along Haven's walls. The dark purple that signaled nightfall was beginning to build at the base of the lamps. Zayn picked up his pace. If he moved quickly enough, he might be able to get close enough to reach the lamp-boundary that provided relative safety against the things that lurked in the wastes.

Then he heard the creaking. Zayn's blood went cold.

Darting off from being out in the open, he ducked behind the nearest collection of tangled underbrush. He stilled himself. He quieted his breathing to the best of his ability. As the light of the gold lamps continued to fade, reducing the boundary of relative safety, darkness blossomed around him. The fog continued rolling in, further obscuring most of what could easily be seen by the natural eye. His darkvision began to take over as the light of the lamps receded. The world began to take on varying shades of grey. That was when he saw it.

Zayn froze. He resisted the urge to sprint away from his hiding spot in a bout of dread. He kept himself as still as possible. He watched it move through the rolling fog. It moved with ghostly grace, gliding over the ground. One moment it was fifty feet away. Then it faded. The next moment it was thirty feet away. Then it faded again. The next moment it was ten feet away and Zayn's heart leapt into his throat.

”Darkfather protect me. Shadows hide me.”

He prayed silently to the Dark One. He dared not even breathe for fear of being discovered.

It faded with the sound of branches creaking in a soft breeze. Zayn stayed still. After several tense moments, he turned himself, doing his best to make as little noise as possible. He scanned the world around him. The fog was growing denser. He was running out of time.

Zayn took off at a sprint in the direction of the city. He ran. He did not look back. He just ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, following the path where the fog was the lightest while he still could. In the distance, the golden light was fading faster. Nightfall was approaching like a hand stretching across the wastes. Zayn felt like something was bearing down upon him. He trusted the feeling and dove behind the nearest tree, pressing himself against the trunk and going still. He forced himself not to breathe heavily, closing his eyes, focusing on just his breathing.

Creaking drifted to his ears.

He opened his eyes. He saw it again. Then it faded. It appeared again. Then it faded and he did not see it again for several minutes.

Zayn was about to move when he heard movement to his right. His gaze landed on the form of a tall man running through the fog in the open. He heard the creaking, further away but close enough that the man should have heard it. Should have hid. Should have went still. When that did not happen, Zayn realized the man must have been frightened.

That was wise.

”Hide. Hide. Hide!”

He mentally shouted at the man who looked to be running blindly. When Zayn could watch no more, he shoved himself off of the trunk of the tree he was hiding behind and made a sprint for the man. He closed the distance between them, shouldered into the man, grabbed the nearest thing he could, whether that be a wrist, an arm, his shirt or his belt, it did not matter. They just had to get out of the open. Yanking the man with every ounce of strength he could muster he shoved him up against the wide trunk of the nearest dead tree. He clapped a hand over the man's mouth.

Zayn pressed a finger to his own lips, violet eyes staring up into opal green.

His expression was as clear as he could make it. Be still. Don't panic. Be silent.

Zayn kept eye-contact with the stranger. He could hear the creaking behind him.

It appeared. Draped in the fog that followed it like a cloak. A skeletal beast with crooked horns that stalked through the dead trees on oddly shaped limps. What flesh it had was rotted. A desiccated mockery of torn meat and hide that had long since dried out. In its eye sockets burned pale green fire, wisps that beckoned the unwitting into the mists.

It moved.


Thoughts.
Communicative Expression.
Sign Language.

[Thimryl]

89th of Glade, Year 125, A.o.S

➸ Fear. An overwhelming flood of fear, exhaustion, and desperation engulfed the young elf as he ran. He didnt know what was coming, but he could feel the phantom reach of something almost about to grab him. He hadn't ran this fast since his bootcamp days in the military, but this was a different kind of running. He was literally running for his life. Then came the collision, and Thimryl immediately thought something else lurking in the shadows was about to maul him to death. He remembered what Arcas had told him at the beginning of the season, and he wished he had prepared more.

"Arcas, Lord of Light, shield me in your light!" he prayed mentally, preparing to meet Wraeden, but there was no pain, nor mauling, just something grabbing him and hoisting him away. It wasnt till he was pressed against the trunk of a derelict tree that he saw the figure. His skin was a rich, deep amethyst, with eyes that matched, seeming to look at Thimryl with intent. With a hushing gesture, Thimryl's eyes widened as he could see it, in the distance, but it was there.

Thimryl was still a bit confused and wanted to run away from there, but the gentlemen seemed to infer that remaining still and quiet was their best option. The creature could be motion sensitive, so it would be possible for them to evade it if they remained out of sight and silent. All he could do now in this moment was stare back at the violet eyes that were pleadingly looking into his opal greens. He tried to calm his heart, the thudding of it pounding in his ears as he struggled with the fear and desperation. ➸

"Common Speech"
"Mythrasi Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Zayn]

Z A Y N

He did not remove his hand from the taller's elf's mouth, keeping it lightly in place. He did not dare move while he still got the feeling that the creature was still around. He could hear the sound of creaking branches moving in the fog behind them. When the other man looked away from him and into the distance, Zayn could see it reflected in his eyes. He could see it in the way the man's expression shifted. It was still there. Zayn waited. He focused on his breathing. He made himself as still as possible. He waited for the sound of creaking branches growing distant, fading into the fog.

He felt the shift before he heard it. Like a pressure lifting off of his neck. It was followed by the sound of creaking wood fading into the fog.

Zayn dropped his hand from the other man's mouth, he yanked the elf out of their hiding spot and pointed toward the walls of the city. The dark lamps that signified night hours were almost fully illuminated. Zayn ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. They were closing in on the boundary that would provide relative safety against the horrors that lurked in the unforgiving dark.

He did not look to see if the elf was close. He could hear him well enough. If the man was smart, he would follow suit as Zayn did not know if he would be willing to risk himself again for a panicked stranger. On the back of his neck he could feel something bearing down. He could feel the cold breath of the creature that would swallow them into the fog if it managed to reach them.

In a last ditch effort to buy them some time, Zayn touched upon the burning cold that was always present on his right hand.

Darkfather, shroud us. Please.

Darkness sprung to life around his right hand, Zayn skidded to a halt, whirling around making a rising motion with his arm. The shadows jumped up from the ground, forming a wall of darkness that rose ten feet up from the barren earth. His heart jumped into his throat as he saw the ghastly creature galloping toward them. The distraction proved effective, if only just enough, as it reared back.

Zayn did not wait any longer than that. He turned on his heel and sprinted toward the boundary. He could already feel the shadows dissipating behind him but it did not matter. With a final burst of speed, Zayn pushed himself forward and across the boundary of the dark light of the violet lamps that shone from Haven's walls. He flung himself forward, landing on his shoulder. He scrambled back, flipping onto his back so that he could see behind himself.

Fog closed in, stopping at the very edge of the protective boundary. Zayn's heart was pounding in his chest. He swallowed, head falling back in relief. Dragging himself to his feet, he would not be satisfied until he was safely inside the walls of Haven and was passed out on his bed.

He looked around, when his eyes found the other elf, he gave him a once over, briefly searching for anything that looked life-threatening. After that, Zayn checked to see if his quiver was still in place, he pat himself to see that all of his belongings were together. Then he began trudging toward the gate of the city.

If the other elf met his gaze, he jerked his head toward the city gate.


Thoughts.
Communicative Expression.
Sign Language.

[Thimryl]

89th of Glade, Year 125, A.o.S

➸ A deafening silence weighed on him as he waited for the creature to get further away from them. His heart was beating so fast that he thought he'd pass out from it alone, but soon his eyes shifted as he no longer could see it in the immediate vicinity. The other elf let his lips go and pulled him out to where he gestured into the distance. Thimryl saw a massive wall up ahead, lamps of a dark violet illuminating the area around the wall, growing brighter as time went on.

When the violet-hued elf took off, Thimryl was confused, but realized he was running towards the giant wall and so he too followed behind. The sound of hooves pounding the desolate ground behind them began to echo in his ear, the elf too fearful to turn his head to see how close the creature was. He didnt have to; the pressure and overwhelming dread were enough of a signifier as to how close it was getting. He watched as the elf who saved him seemed to be casting magic. How was that even possible when he couldnt call his pact weapon?

Rushing past the young man, he turned his head to catch a glimpse of the shadows erupting from the ground to block the path of the creature, the sound of its groaning and skidding to a halt from behind the wall of darkness. He kept running; he could see the light that illuminated the wall just a few more feet ahead. With what was left of his energy, he leaped into the open light, rolling to help cushion the impact as he watched the beast retreat away from the light. It seemed that whatever the light was kept the danger away from them.

Finding the strength, he got to his feet, dusting himself off only to notice that the bag of supplies he had brought was gone, probably in the chaos of running for his life. He saw that the other elf was making a gesture to go with him inside the walled city. Catching up to the guy, he wasnt sure how to thank him. "Thank you for saving me back there, I dont think I would have survived if not for your aid." he began, remembering that the gentleman seemed to be non-verbal and used gestures to communicate. He gave the man "Thank you" bow with his hands clasped in a praying fashion, following the man towards the city gates. ➸

"Common Speech"
"Mythrasi Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Zayn]

Z A Y N

He watched the other elf get to his feet. When it was clear that he was uninjured, Zayn was satisfied. He gave a nod of his head in response to the man’s thanks. Recognizing that the man likely thought he was deaf, he pointed to his ear making an affirmative gesture indicating that he could hear just fine. He then touched his lips and then his throat before making a negative gesture, indicating he was mute. Walking toward the gates, he hailed the Night’s Watchmen that stood nearby.

“Glad to see you made it back in one piece, Zayn. Successful hunt?” The nearest watchman spoke in Vallenor, the dialect old but words likely recognizable if Thimryl had any rudimentary understanding of the language.

Zayn shook his head, opening up the empty satchel on his hip to show.

“Ah. Better luck next time. Who is the friend?” The watchman looked at Thimryl. Zayn shrugged his shoulders. He looked up at the taller elf. The Night’s Watchmen looked over Thimryl, clearly sizing him up, observing his attire, and overall appearance. Both of them were of similar violet shaded skin with dark eyes much like Zayn. Thimryl’s Hytori nature was not lost on them. The watchman switched to Common, addressing Thimryl.

“You’re not from around here.” It was not a question. In days of late, the amount of travelers wandering in from the wasteland that did not hail from Haven, coming from much more distant places, had increased exponentially. Haven was adjusting to such an influx. New people, new things, and new ways to approach life were not unwelcome in the city but it had shaken up many things.

“Couple things, friend.” The watchman gestured up to the lamps that stood at the top of Haven’s walls. “The Lamps are all that protect us from the creatures of the wastes. Violet means dark hours. Best to stay within the walls. Gold means day hours. You can travel in relative safety outside the walls when that happens. When the Lamps go black, seek shelter, hide, and whatever you do? Don’t be found.”

The second watchman pointed to the gatehouse behind them.

“If you need a bit of direction, they can help get you sorted inside or Zayn here can give you some direction!” The watchman clapped him on the shoulder. Zayn rolled his eyes and shrugged out of the touch. He was friendly enough with the Night’s Watch. When his father had been taken, they had not abandoned him to the streets. In return, Zayn shared information when he was out scouting, hunting, and sometimes brought back things they could use.

“Welcome to Haven City.” The watchmen stepped aside, motioning for the both of them to continue on their way. Zayn gave a light wave to the gate watcher before walking past them. Once inside he pointed to the iron door upon which was painted the insignia of the Night’s Watch.

He then gave a small wave before moving to make his way deeper into the city, toward home.


Thoughts.
Communicative Expression.
Sign Language.

[Thimryl]

89th of Glade, Year 125, A.o.S

➸ Thimryl was still feeling the shock from what had transpired earlier. What nightmarish horror did he stumble into? It was unreal. Nothing could have prepared him for this, and then the words of Arcas echoed in his ear. "If it is conflict you seek, there are many dangers beyond the borders of Sol'Valen. Dangers that will not wait for you to be ready for them." Remembering those words, he gave a heavy sigh of relief as he followed behind the mute male who saved him.

The guardsman at the massive gate greeted him, calling the violet-hued male Zayn. "Zayn." he noted in his mother tongue as he listened to the guardsman, nodded at his advice, and felt his blood run cold at the last part. It did seem that the lamps kept all that was dark and scary at bay, and he didnt know enough about this....Haven City to go off on his own just yet. He looked to Zayn when the guardsman made his joke, noting the roll of his eyes.

With a parting welcome, Thimryl was left with a choice: try the Night's Watch or go with the one person he owed his life to. Catching up to Zayn, he tapped him on his shoulder. "Forgive me for being so forward, but do you mind if I come with you? You know this place better than I do, and I owe you my life, so it's only fair that I repay that debt to you." he requested, giing the young man another polite bow in sincerity towards him. He hoped for a favorable answer. ➸

"Common Speech"
"Mythrasi Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"