Kyzaghan

~~

“You’re a war-mongering madman!”

The voice hissed fine and seething, but the creature heeded no such venom. He preferred it. Intoxicating and rippling through blood like fire upon spilled oil, blackened with the remnant of destruction.

He rippled like soil turned over and uprooted. Antler broken and jangling with jewels fine and adorning his shifting body. He, the Heir of Sands, the Inheritor of the Desolate, a creature possessing the ability to become sand, carried by the winds. A swarm to impose itself upon the clan, festering like rot in sickly, saccharine worship. Words spoken from him as honey dripping from sharp teeth and oozing onto talons made for pulling. A voice baritone and words picked delicate to squirm into the minds of others. He wanted their ideals to become his own. He wanted to consume the world, infest like the very sands upon every orifice. As the deep roots of wasteland plants leech the water from the arid denudation, so too does Kyzaghan with the souls of those left to the desert.

This corrupted heir. This venomous beast of tarnished heart, heavy as iron and resting petrified and silent in his gilded ribcage. He remembered how it felt to be abandoned in desolate land. Forgotten. He writhed in hatred, and soon, the thought of revenge stretched open its merciless maw and snatched him up into its crushing gullet.

And oh, how he longed for war. Each mind infected with his own belief became a faceless soldier in which he would pledge war upon the world itself. A throng of beasts tearing apart the land, leaving nothing in its wake. Kyzaghan slid upon the wind as sand and regained his physical manifestation, mouth open and seething.

He would find a land in which to call ‘home’. The serpent in which to bleed its fangs into the ground and start his search for scouts. He was a patient creature.

And he will get his army.

Lore by PunchingSolas

~~