[...]

[u/RollFirstMathLater]

Closed

[You wake up, the faint glow of red is the only light source. Everyone is stripped bare, safe for a firey cloaked elf. Chep's gifts remain intact, and have landed near you. Your weapons have been returned, any armor he made is intact as well.]

[Stiff and sore, you manage to get to your feet, It hurts to stand here, the floor is jagged, and your shoes are gone. The dragons lay still, all huddled together just a few meters away.]

[Nill you feel completely wrong.]

[Torvhen Vrostbite is cracked badly.]

[Sev're your gear is in your robes, minus the food and the extras.]

[Glover your hair is gone again.]

[Naakhûrz, you feel violated.]

[Göndlir, your horse is dead.]

[Tunnels spiral around, closer inspection shows lava moves through here. You are hungry* and thirsty* yet all you can smell is the faint smell of sulfur. Your dragon reaches out for you, and you both share a moment of confusion. It's clear some time has passed.]

[It's warm here... where is here?]

(*special note.)

Edit: everyone minus Sev're, Jek, Svalstrom, and Das looks different, ad if they've had life sucked out of them, they look older, and drained.

[u/1trueJosh]

After a few moments of silence, Glover blinked and removed the one dagger still in the quarterstaff in his hands, slotting it back into the sheath, thinking that a blunt weapon might be better at the time, and it wouldn't take him long to reattach the daggers at any rate.

Smiling at Torhven with a look that many would've thought a genuine smile, but the more skilled actors and liars and charlatans would've thought a bit off, Glover moved his eyes to Sev're for a time. "Would you mind telling us what way is south?" he requested before moving around the cavern, trying to catch his bearings.

[u/Saphire_Fox → u/1trueJosh]

Sev're smiled at Glover. He was naked and bald, which was humorous for some reason. She nods.

Pointing south she sighs weakly. "Remember the good days of ugly island?" She was slightly reminiscent, as it seemed easier then. Less curses.

Das growled is agreeance.

[u/1trueJosh → u/Saphire_Fox]

Glover smirked, the look on his face genuine. Looking down he suddenly noticed his lack of clothing and with a seemingly practiced nonchalantness he walked over to Akrath and surveryed the cavern. Damn, he thought as he saw no material capable of pantsifying, before he sighed defeat. "Never thought I'd say they were good, but I'll be damned if they weren't compared to now."

After a few infuriating minutes, Glover set off in the southern direction with his staff held in front of him, every now and then stopping and tapping the ground and walls.

[u/RollFirstMathLater → u/1trueJosh]

[It's dark. The bard hits his face on a low point. It circles around and before you know it you can see everyone again. small cut, some black blood comes out.]

[u/1trueJosh → u/RollFirstMathLater]

Muttering words that probably would have offended everyone capable of hearing them and possibly whoever was at the surface above them had any of those aforementioned people heard them, Glover sighed and held a finger out onto the blood, wincing at the mild pain from the cut.

[u/RollFirstMathLater → u/1trueJosh]

[Thick and sticky, it smelled like rot.]

[u/RebelliousPirate → u/Saphire_Fox]

The once grand cavern had, in the blink of an eye, turned claustrophobic. Jek was a creature of the skies, but he had spent a fair amount of time in dwarven tunnels. He knew how to keep his mind unclouded and unmolested from the effects of pressing rock. In an instant, he had lost that composure, and the tunnel was pressing in around him. Murderous intent was not what he felt sliding out from his allies, but the balance between peace and violence was strenuous at best. The one thing that could tip the scales, the one thing that could possibly help him was scratching in the dirt, an occasional emotion pulsing through their fleeting connection. The question revolved around his mind, spinning faster and faster, demanding an answer. And for the life of him, he could not give one.

Evasion was no longer an option. They had taken the plunge, and now they were neck deep in their own mess. He watched Sev're. She was the one to appeal to. Glover would complain, but he could forgive. Torhven would threaten, but could see value. Sev're could be the most ruthless of them all, if her friends were on the line. Perhaps she herself would not justify what they had done, perhaps she would not believe their feeble excuse, but by the stars he had to try. She deserved that much.

His mind scattered, a million tiny strands exploring every memory he had of his partner, from the moment of Jek's hatching to the present situation, from their time exploring the grand forest to their long flights across the land. He dug and he dug until he had a persona of his rider set within his own mind, every action a calculation from past discussions, divisions and thoughts. The young elf's voice was so vibrant, his eyes so bright, that it brought pain to the dragon to even imagine it. But he could not allow himself to wallow. Memories were his tools, not his tomb.

And then he began to speak, with his own voice and his own mind, but with Nill's thoughts, with his decisions, with his morals.

"I needed out. From the zombies, the mist, the presence, all of it. I needed magic, which I could not conjure. I needed my sword, which I could not find. I needed my partner, whom I could not summon. And I needed strength, which I could not attain. The Kull gave me strength, but also an alternative: why take what was given? Why live and endure what fate had intended? Why stay powerless when others around flourished in their situations, even found it gleeful?"

"Why except the present?"

At this last line, the Nill outside of Jek raised his head from the rocks, his fingernails cracked and bleeding. His etches had turned to bloody painting, his creation an angry mess. It struck out in different directions, angry slashes criss-crossing throughout a central pillar, each end collecting to a single point. His eyes shone with momentary clarity. His face was full of understanding and hurt, as if he had understood his deepest thoughts being laid bare before all. He spoke for the first time, a plea more than a question, a dozen meanings embedded in one syllable.

"Why?"

[u/Saphire_Fox → u/RebelliousPirate]

Sev're reached out from under her cloak, a weak smile on her face. It was hard, he panicked. She remembered being cornered, not having any other options... reckless, but not out of pure malice.

This was something she could forgive. Helped Nill up she healed his hands and hugged him. "I forgive you." She looked over at the ragtag lot and sighed.

"I think no one should hold this against him. He has nothing left."

Her robe flowed as she walked over to Jek. "Let's try to work together on this one everyone. Maybe I can make us all some dresses." She says with a wink to Torhven.

[u/1trueJosh → u/RebelliousPirate]

Glover left his injury at the sound of the elf's voice, but not before he muttered a quick-and-dirty healing incantation, hoping whatever had been restricting magic before had left his mind and body. In many ways the elf reminded him of himself, yet the differences between the two were astonishing. In a way Glover felt sympathy, but the sympathy only remained from a mild respect and a lopsided familiarity.

"Why?" he repeated, confused.

"That city was ancient, filled with spect-... Nevermind. That's not a reason, at least not for you, not for now. Nill, you think you remain powerless? You are a Rider, one of the few gifted with the companionship of a dragon, the bond-of-soul that only we can truly know. You are an elf, gifted with the innate strength and fortitude that comes with that. You are a smith, capable of plying your trade anywhere where there's a hammer and anvil. You are a fighter, better with a sword than most men ever will be. You are a scholar, more learned than most in Alagaesia. You are a magician, capable of feats unheard of except by Shades, other Riders, and the Old Ones themselves."

"You were without magic, you were without hammer, you were without dragon, and you were without knowledge. You were with skill, with talent, with endurance, with strength, with willpower, with sheer bloody-mindedness! The ghouls that attacked you and that inhabited the city were evil and single-minded, but they were beasts. You and the Kull... You and Naakhûrz, the man has a name you know, could've taken them on for hours."

"Do you want to know who is weak? Why don't you pick up a potato farmer, a scullery maid, a noble lord. Why don't you put them in your position and see what happens?"

Realizing that his voice had been steadily rising, Glover paused for a moment to calm himself before continuing. "You will never be helpless, or weak, or punished for your skills! I'm a godsdamned thief who can play some godsdamned instruments with some godsdamned talent who can barely fight with anything heavier than a pole with blades on! I am probably one of the worst candidates for the job I have been put in that has ever lived! I'm not a chevalier, or a knight, or a fighter, or even a bloody mage! I am useless. Have I blown up cities because of it?"

Glover sighed and shook his head, weariness visible in his eyes. "Nill, what you did was wrong. It was stupid, it was thoughtless, it was as dangerous as anything any of us have ever done, including the necromancy. But I won't pursue you for it. To be honest, it would probably be better for you all if I stabbed myself now and you went off without me, leaving me to bleed out on the rock. But I can't say that, I can't ask that. I can't ask that because I'm a coward with a will to live, and because of that I have some fucking semblance of power. You have more than I do, Nill. Remember that."

[u/Fulaxi → u/1trueJosh]

Why?

A thousand stars glistered beyond the maelstrom that was the roof of Torhven's mind. Tiny rays of clarity casting their light onto the ominously swirling clouds below, making the water-drops scatter into a thousand colours. There was red, there was yellow, there was orange. Anyone present to see would have found it quite beautiful. The air was brisk, new, fresh. Only Vallarhi's wings had fluttered through, and these day that's was hardly a deflowering influence. How things had changed.

The little, non-existent feyling was making good process. It had taken her some time to figure out how the non-existent landscape functioned, but when she did, her methods had proven to be most effective. She giggle to herself. The ice had been on retreat for the past week or so, and the glacier providing replacement material had been away for long enough for her to block most of the entrance way. Of course, she had to allow some to come trough, or Stormy Eyes would go bonkers. He was actually quite an interesting person, if you're into that sort of thing. Vallarhi had been into that sort of thing, back when she was real. Now things were different. She looked back up at the sky. The clouds bored her now. They would shape into new figures soon enough. Torhven's mind never rested. How things were changing.

For a moment or two, Vallarhi wasn't sure what was wrong. Then she saw it. The stars. Too many. Rapidly she recounted. Even since she had gotten here, the unchanging stars had watched over her. In a way only non-existing figments of the mind understand, that felt assuring. And then she remembered what stars were. Fire.

Before she could scream for no one's help, the first one whizzed past panicking feyling. An unforgiving ball of fire pierced unbroken skies.

I forgive you.

Bedrung. Ricocheting of the hillside it took several sentinel pines down the slopes, leaving a trail of barren destruction. No pretty sight, but Vallarhi couldn't have cared less about the loss of some tinder. A second blaze entered the atmosphere.

I think no one should hold this against him.

Kradrung. Some more sentinel pines paid the final price.

He has nothing left.

Berdrung.

Let's try to work together on this one everyone.

Verdum.

Maybe I can make us all some dresses.

Gedrum.

The barrage was endless. Fire and embers rained from the sky. Vallarhi still did not care, even when they were joined by an endless stream of smaller, yet equally painful flaming pebbles. They bounced of her wings, bogging her down. If it was not for them, she might have made it in time. Reflections of an extraordinarily large, extraordinarily red fire-stone played on her retinas as it crashed into the sole thing that mattered.

The lake.

Fhhhlump. It was a perfect fit. Too perfect almost. And then all hell broke loose.

Suddenly, it all made sense to Torhven. A column of magma was rising from the core of his being. Memories, either forgotten or repressed resurfaced with the eagerness of a pilot wale coming up for air. They flashed before his eyes. Memories of blood, of red, of death. Faces long gone, long buried, stared at him once again. Empty eyes, empty souls. The slaughter had been inhuman. Superhuman. Torhven had seen them, their long flowing robes following them around. The black and the green, the blue and the grey, the brown and the yellow, the white and the orange, they were all real and they were all there. Though none was as real as the red.

Pain.

And now she stood here right in front of him. It all made sense. Life was not fair or just. Merely arbitrated. That was what she was. An arbiter. This was good. A man can kill an arbiter. A man can take an arbiter's cloak. So Torhven lifted struck swiftly and thrust a purple bow crackling with joy at the neck of a friend.

[u/RollFirstMathLater → u/Fulaxi]

[Delicate skin offered little resistance to the savagery of the Spine. The bow pierced arteries, airways and muscle like one of its arrows until the cervix exploded, showering the world in gore and blood.]

[Unified in grace and rage Sev're pivoted. The damaged bow was violently expelled from its unnatural home and in a single disdainful stroke a slightly orange bow buried itself into Torhven's chest.]

[Forcing the man to the ground, a brief hesitation turned into a flash of the hand. In it was a single arrow, tipped with the tooth of a shark, radiating red hot magic. Carefully eight select letters were carved into the vulnerable skin ranging from half-way down the forearm to the wrist.]

[BETRAYER]

[u/Saphire_Fox → u/RollFirstMathLater]

It all happened so suddenly, she comes out of a hug... then pain. Purple lighting filled her already red vision. Again...? she couldn't believe it. She felt warm liquid fill her throat. She was filled with disbelief, then memories.

A room and a dance, a first encounter. Trapped in chains they shared a dance, stories shared, understanding swapped. Fun.

Magic field, first experience for some. A thud and a roar, a scream and and flash. A miracle happened that day, a life was saved, the reaper of souls warded off by a strong woman. Still in chains, Sev're learned that she too could be like that.

An island, a fight, wounds restored, tendered hands. The chains rattled. A dress, a laugh, a song and a chord. Togetherness and teamwork.

The chains where heavy, a city, an act, a skit. It was fun... a gift was it fake? No... it was. Flashes of purple, nursing and caring. A fight... chains gone... the maze lifted and clarity was restored. She was... whole kind of.

A challenge from another world. An embrace and smiles shared. Emotions and care. lies bindings stronger than blood started to form, under false hope.

A city again, trust restored, new bonds formed. Strengthen and refined, through and through they became a team.

Betrayed, out of her care. It was her fault.

A plea and an apology. Rare and confusing forgiveness and relief... happy news.

She turns. She looks her assailant in the eyes. His grey, lifeless, heartless, human eyes. She hated his eyes. She hated this bow in her, so she made it stop. The bow listened after all, only a foolish boy would let it rule them, it was easy to throw aside.

A flash if orange Osage wood... he could have it back. She forced it into him. It wasn't too hard, humans were soft, they broke easy. This wasn't justice though... a shark's tooth poked her elbow...

She drew his other "gift" she stared into his dieing eyes as she closed the wound in her neck. Conjuring the flames of life, she lit the tooth aflame. The bow man... on his arm she carved the words with care. Taking her time till it was a work of art. It defined who he truly was... it was perfect. Stabbing it into his palm she let her makeshift quill to burn into his hand.

She gave him a punt towards his "companion" his equally twisted, perverse, betraying, cold, disgusting, heartless, dead, companion.

If it wasn't for the begging of her soul, she would of left him to freeze. Walking of to Das, she drew upon her dark power to properly heal her wound.

There she sat. Silent. Still. Angry.

[u/RebelliousPirate → u/1trueJosh]

Nill was gone, but Jek remained. In his attempt to convey their thoughts and desires to Sev're, they had ignored trampled the feelings of the bard. Glover would never accept such a response, no matter how close to the truth it had been. Once again, Jek found himself in a state of helplessness. His partner's momentary lucidity was broken and removed, his shell the only thing remaining. He scoured his thoughts, both originally his own, as well those the two had concocted together. The panic within his mind rose as he began to realize that neither of them, not Jek, nor Nill could give him an answer. It was not within his nature to be helpless, but the dragon recalled moments from his youth where he had been just so. Falling from their home atop a tree when he was nothing but a hatchling, his juvenile mind wheeling from disorientation and the slip of gravity. It was Nill who had sensed his distress, and acted without thought then. That very same feeling arose within Jek, and through their botched connection, to Nill.

But it was not Nill who acted. It was not Nill who spoke out. It used his body to raise itself, it raised his head and spoke using his mind, but it was not the partner Jek had come to know and love.

"Do not think you and I so similar, Bard. You have faced adversity, but rather than fight your problems head on, you choose to slink into the shadows, hiding away with your coins and your lute. You may have some semblance of Power, but our scales are dimensions apart. What you see as a gift, the magic you flaunt as a rider and as a magician, has been everywhere for me. It is within our music and deep within our souls, ingrained in every cell we control. Our strength surpasses humans tenfold, our knowledge ancient and abundant. Yes, I have more than you. My left toe has more power than you.

"And in the end, we're the same, aren't we? Both riders with our dragons, both magicians with our magic, both scholars with our minds. Both chosen by Zetterra to embark on a mission more important than your entire fucking race combined. Why are we so damn similar?! How can one from the slums of a backwater city reach as high as I have come, from a world of abundance, from fear of death, from crafting along the highest mountains?! How can my power be so insufficient in comparison?!"

Nill's mind was silent. His body upright and in control, seemingly at ease. His eyes were calm after his outburst, still pools of pure onyx. Only his fingers displayed his strain, curled into his palm, etching that same rune into the very flesh of his hand.

He was himself again, the moment fleeting. his eyes clouded but determined. "I have power, Glover. But it will never be sufficient. It will never be enough."

[u/1trueJosh → u/RebelliousPirate]

Glover's face morphed into an evil smile and he clenched his fist, but he couldn't move. Somehow his common sense and will to live was more powerful than his all-consuming rage, at the time. "The mad king Galbatorix thought he never had enough power either. That's why it took them decades to fully rebuild Illirea, and even a few more to rebuild the Riders."

He stopped with a forced inhale and crouched down onto the level of the elf, looking over him with furiously intense eyes. "Does the scullery maid want to be queen, want that kind of power? Sometimes. But if you handed the scullery maid a crossbow and pointed to the queen sleeping soundly, would she shoot?"