Dec 04 2019, 09:51 PM
He could feel it.
Her presence had been a dim glow in the pit of his heart for so, so long. It put off enough light to let him know that she was still there, in some way, in some form; still out there, somewhere, waiting to be resurrected and reunited. He knew she was still alive from the way she visited him in his dreams, as though in his sleep, she pulled them both back through time to the moments when she had weight. He heard her voice sometimes, a dreary echo in his cavernous doldrums that whispered smiles and peace. Her voice, a hymn that hovered between the walls of his secret temple, a focal point, a hushing hand unburnt by all the fires and chaos that whipped up a storm in his mental mountain.
Always, she sang to him--even if her syllables were but resonance beneath a breath. She was the thing that calmed him after his fury chipped away at the walls and swallowed lava. She was the thing that kept him under control, coaxing him away from the barricade of stones that thought it kept him imprisoned. She did her duty, he supposed, subduing him when he thought of scorching the mites that infested the cave. And yet inexplicably, he could never begrudge her for it. She was tantalizing, soft and delicate, a treasure nobody else could have--perhaps the most valuable treasure in this fucking shithole--and her words still retained an otherworldly possession over him even if she lacked a material body, reduced to nothing but stone. Theirs was a connection nobody else could mimic. A connection nobody could harm.
Until they did.
He felt it like pain splitting down the middle of his forehead. Like agony, gripping his heart. That thing he felt wasn't burning, wasn't freezing, wasn't wrenching or gutting. Odd, how such a thing could be the most painful sensation of all: silence.
Her songs were cut short. A wicked screech at the crux of her sweetest notes, a voice severed too soon.
Taken.
She was taken away.
That was a pain he'd never felt before.
Every corner of the cavern trembled. The monstrous, anguished howl was only the forebearer of what was to come next: the lashing gouts of plasma that suddenly illuminated Polaris' darkest corners. The flood of heat that singed the air with a foreboding glimmer. A hellish shriek stabbed through the ambiance of the cave, sharply increasing in volume until its origin came to light in a whirlwind of red-hot fire and spits of lava, descending from the ceiling as a burning seraph. The obsidian beast with his orange wings spread in tongues of flame. The demon of shadow and fire, broken free from his prison in Leo by the absence of his only control.
Raheerah.
"WHERE IS SHE?" the dragon bellowed, erupting into the cavern with a deluge of fury.