Zorn part 2
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TOPIC | Zeplen's Lore Archive (WIP)
Cursed Roots
Cursed Roots
Frayed nerves gnawed at Arkani as she and her mother traveled to their family-owned bakery. A heavy silence weighed on the streets. Hushed whispers wavered in the cold, fading into the soft sticking of snow. Father’s off to war by now, isn’t he?
“Come, Arkani, the bakery isn’t going to make the goods itself.” Her mother’s voice was tight, but a smile lit on her face. She was trying to keep it all together for everyone’s sake.
“R-Right.” Arkani shook the snow from her pelt and trotted after her mother, putting up the same front to appease the tense atmosphere.
They knew the war would come sooner or later. They knew that when they entered this pack. The Alpha stressed that point. Yet, they were lulled into peaceful times with an Alpha who cared for his pack. Arkani’s father would train under his guidance, and she as well, but they grew numb to it.
When the request came, Arkani’s father volunteered without hesitation. Arkani couldn’t make the same call. Besides… someone has to take care of mom…
The familiar jingle of the bell of the bakery door opening, the scent of baked goods, was oddly distant. It didn’t feel real.
“Arkani?” Her mother’s soft voice snapped her from her thoughts. Arkani jerked her head up, then looked down at her mother’s shifted form. Beautiful wavey dark brown hair with red highlights, icy blue eyes, tannish complexion. She was every bit as stunning as her wolf form.
“I…” The words drowned in her throat and she turned away. “I’ll be in in a moment.” Arkani’s mother sighs softly, not in an upset manner, but a motherly one. She reaches up and takes Arkani’s muzzle into her hands, steering her head to look at her. Soft eyes look at her.
“Have faith, cupcake.” Her words were gentle and comforting. “He’ll make it back to us. I know he will.” Tears fell from Arkani’s eyes; she couldn’t hold them back any longer. Shifting forms, Arkani hugged her mother.
Arkani’s mother pulled away, wiping the freezing tears away. She opened the bakery door, the jingle clearer.
“Come now, little one, why don’t we bake these bad thoughts away?”
“Yes, momma!” Arkani chirped.
The air snapped. Sickly green portals materialized, swirling with ferocity. Arkani’s mother’s face paled.
“M-Mom?” Arkani trembled.
With a howl, the vortexes began dragging them into their ghastly frames. Arkani struggled against the invisible force, almost panicking. Her mother ripped at the necklace tucked under her shirt. Her arm transformed into her wolven counterpart and chucked it as hard as she could at Arkani. It was just enough to break through the portal’s grasp. Arkani fumbled for the necklace, taking hold of the small vial attached to it.
“Mom!” Arkani cried, reaching for her mother as most of her body was sucked into the portal.
“Arkani! Stay strong! I’ll come fin-”
With a final screech, the vortex consumed them.
Suffocating. Drowning in an endless darkness. Infecting lungs.
Light.
A paw reached out.
Falling.
Thud.
Rain pelts her face. Arkani stares up at the overhanging storm clouds that assault her being. Her head hurts. She turns her head away from the rain. Scratch that, her whole body hurts. What… happened to me? Arkani forces herself to move, the world lurching as she does. I… I can’t remember… anything…
She shakily rises from… a crater? Branches lay broken in splinters underneath her, leaves scattered everywhere. Mud clings to her fur as the rain continues to pour.
With a start, Arkani realizes she’s clutching something in her claws. She unravels her claws, revealing a beautiful, ornate silver necklace with a small red vial attached by a silver wolf emblem. What is this? This is clearly so important that I drew blood, but I can’t remember anything at all!
Arkani shakes her head. Shelter. I need to get out of this blasted rain. Arkani grips the necklace and trudges along, limping.
Arkani collapses in the mouth of an opening in the rockface. It took her several hours of wandering to find it. She’s exhausted, cold, hungry, and injured. At least she is out of the rain. It’s a start.
“Hello?”
The voice is soft under the downpour of rain. She almost thought it was her mind playing tricks on her.
“You should probably go.”
Go? Go where?! I don’t even know where I am! Or even who I am! She didn’t have the energy to retort or look for the voice.
After a few minutes, Arkani drags herself further inside. There’s no way I’m going out, not like this.
The rain drowns out most of it, but as she crawls forward, she finds the tattered remains of a dragon.
“Sorry you had to find me like this, but I did warn you.” Amusement intertwined behind those words. “If you’re sticking around, you can help me, though, right?”
“My clan removed me from the wall, and now the Roots won’t take me. I can’t move on. But I can’t remember why, so I can’t fix it.” It pauses, as though contemplating something. “This place knows why, but it won’t tell me. The secret is hidden in the walls. You can tap into it by - have you ever tried baku venom before?”
“Baku… venom…?” Arkani rasps. She’s never heard of it before.
“Oh, relax. It’s not going to kill you. You’ll find some in the herb-pot under ‘perishables’. Crack it open, take a swig, and let me know if you find anything out. When I’m with the Roots, I’ll put in a good word for you. Capiche?”
She knows she doesn’t have a choice. Arkani limps over to where the voice directed her to. She finds a pot of some weird liquid, recoiling at the sight and smell as her weary body gives out on her, the liquid sloshing onto her.
In an instant, it’s lights out for her.
Elation courses through her veins as Arkani wakes up in a sprint. The scenery zips by her with extraordinary speed, and yet, she can keep going. She can go even faster.
A root snaps up from the ground, pulling her down to the ground with a tremendous thud.
A laugh escapes her lips. What is this feeling?
“Wait, you're going to-” The voice is cut off by rattling chimes and a howl of dismay. “What did you do to the shrine?!”
Arkani rolls to her paws, checking herself for wounds, tasting blood in her mouth. She’s covered from head to toe in sap and dyed with half-crushed flowers. A Fae sprints into the grove behind her, a heavy shawl covering her eyes, frills raised in rage.
“Who are you?! Look what you've done!” She storms to where she approximates Arkani are, and she realizes that she must be blind. “I told you to stop! I was shrieking, howling! Do you have ears? You've hurt the younglings!”
The crater spreads from the root Arkani tripped on to the foot of the biggest tree, dirt and mud replacing what must once have been a vibrant flower patch. The impact is still resonating through her body. I can’t catch a break, can I?
“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear- at ta ta ta…!” Arkani winces from the pain. “I don’t know where or who I am… I’m just… w-what can I do to f-fix or help…?” Her legs buckle out from beneath her; the trauma from two major falls is too much for her body to handle. “I’m sorry…” Arkani whimpers.
“Oh no, no no no no no, I didn't mean to kill you! Hang on a sec, I can-” The Fae panics at Arkani's collapse, moving over to check for injuries. Her claws run over Arkani’s fur, searching for wounds and bruises she wouldn't be able to see.
“I’ve… huff… always been the weakest, haven’t I mom?” Arkani’s voice is weak, barely even a whisper, slipping in and out of the sense of consciousness. “I couldn’t… huff... couldn’t… even protect you…”
“Silly, you’ve got it backwards!” A familiar voice whispers into her ear. “A child shouldn’t be the one doing the protecting.”
“That’s our job.” Another voice rumbles in her other ear.
“That’s right. It’s the parents job to protect their children.”
But what if you aren’t there to protect me?
“Cupcake, one day, when we can’t protect you from the world, when you don’t know what to do, you’ll look back and remember our words and our actions. And that will be enough. I promise.”
Warmth rests on Arkani's head as the Fae steps back with her fans frilled out in bafflement after she inspected her. “You seem fine. I mean, maybe you cracked your skull? I wouldn't be able to tell. I can make painkillers, though! We can go over that way in the morning, I have the ingredients at home.”
“H-home?” Arkani mumbles in a pained groan. Her paw twitches, clawing out. “I...want to go home…”
Where is home?
Shadows press against Arkani’s fur. Their presence is mind-numbingly choking. They sneer, leering with their pointing teeth, curling around her in mock devouring.
The sickly scent of death floods her lungs. Arkani sputters out in pain, the shadows infiltrating anything they can cling to. Her arms fling out in panic, clawing at her skin, trying to destroy that which lives within her.
That which wishes to devour her.
Cursed Roots
Frayed nerves gnawed at Arkani as she and her mother traveled to their family-owned bakery. A heavy silence weighed on the streets. Hushed whispers wavered in the cold, fading into the soft sticking of snow. Father’s off to war by now, isn’t he?
“Come, Arkani, the bakery isn’t going to make the goods itself.” Her mother’s voice was tight, but a smile lit on her face. She was trying to keep it all together for everyone’s sake.
“R-Right.” Arkani shook the snow from her pelt and trotted after her mother, putting up the same front to appease the tense atmosphere.
They knew the war would come sooner or later. They knew that when they entered this pack. The Alpha stressed that point. Yet, they were lulled into peaceful times with an Alpha who cared for his pack. Arkani’s father would train under his guidance, and she as well, but they grew numb to it.
When the request came, Arkani’s father volunteered without hesitation. Arkani couldn’t make the same call. Besides… someone has to take care of mom…
The familiar jingle of the bell of the bakery door opening, the scent of baked goods, was oddly distant. It didn’t feel real.
“Arkani?” Her mother’s soft voice snapped her from her thoughts. Arkani jerked her head up, then looked down at her mother’s shifted form. Beautiful wavey dark brown hair with red highlights, icy blue eyes, tannish complexion. She was every bit as stunning as her wolf form.
“I…” The words drowned in her throat and she turned away. “I’ll be in in a moment.” Arkani’s mother sighs softly, not in an upset manner, but a motherly one. She reaches up and takes Arkani’s muzzle into her hands, steering her head to look at her. Soft eyes look at her.
“Have faith, cupcake.” Her words were gentle and comforting. “He’ll make it back to us. I know he will.” Tears fell from Arkani’s eyes; she couldn’t hold them back any longer. Shifting forms, Arkani hugged her mother.
Arkani’s mother pulled away, wiping the freezing tears away. She opened the bakery door, the jingle clearer.
“Come now, little one, why don’t we bake these bad thoughts away?”
“Yes, momma!” Arkani chirped.
The air snapped. Sickly green portals materialized, swirling with ferocity. Arkani’s mother’s face paled.
“M-Mom?” Arkani trembled.
With a howl, the vortexes began dragging them into their ghastly frames. Arkani struggled against the invisible force, almost panicking. Her mother ripped at the necklace tucked under her shirt. Her arm transformed into her wolven counterpart and chucked it as hard as she could at Arkani. It was just enough to break through the portal’s grasp. Arkani fumbled for the necklace, taking hold of the small vial attached to it.
“Mom!” Arkani cried, reaching for her mother as most of her body was sucked into the portal.
“Arkani! Stay strong! I’ll come fin-”
With a final screech, the vortex consumed them.
Suffocating. Drowning in an endless darkness. Infecting lungs.
Light.
A paw reached out.
Falling.
Thud.
Rain pelts her face. Arkani stares up at the overhanging storm clouds that assault her being. Her head hurts. She turns her head away from the rain. Scratch that, her whole body hurts. What… happened to me? Arkani forces herself to move, the world lurching as she does. I… I can’t remember… anything…
She shakily rises from… a crater? Branches lay broken in splinters underneath her, leaves scattered everywhere. Mud clings to her fur as the rain continues to pour.
With a start, Arkani realizes she’s clutching something in her claws. She unravels her claws, revealing a beautiful, ornate silver necklace with a small red vial attached by a silver wolf emblem. What is this? This is clearly so important that I drew blood, but I can’t remember anything at all!
Arkani shakes her head. Shelter. I need to get out of this blasted rain. Arkani grips the necklace and trudges along, limping.
Arkani collapses in the mouth of an opening in the rockface. It took her several hours of wandering to find it. She’s exhausted, cold, hungry, and injured. At least she is out of the rain. It’s a start.
“Hello?”
The voice is soft under the downpour of rain. She almost thought it was her mind playing tricks on her.
“You should probably go.”
Go? Go where?! I don’t even know where I am! Or even who I am! She didn’t have the energy to retort or look for the voice.
After a few minutes, Arkani drags herself further inside. There’s no way I’m going out, not like this.
The rain drowns out most of it, but as she crawls forward, she finds the tattered remains of a dragon.
“Sorry you had to find me like this, but I did warn you.” Amusement intertwined behind those words. “If you’re sticking around, you can help me, though, right?”
“My clan removed me from the wall, and now the Roots won’t take me. I can’t move on. But I can’t remember why, so I can’t fix it.” It pauses, as though contemplating something. “This place knows why, but it won’t tell me. The secret is hidden in the walls. You can tap into it by - have you ever tried baku venom before?”
“Baku… venom…?” Arkani rasps. She’s never heard of it before.
“Oh, relax. It’s not going to kill you. You’ll find some in the herb-pot under ‘perishables’. Crack it open, take a swig, and let me know if you find anything out. When I’m with the Roots, I’ll put in a good word for you. Capiche?”
She knows she doesn’t have a choice. Arkani limps over to where the voice directed her to. She finds a pot of some weird liquid, recoiling at the sight and smell as her weary body gives out on her, the liquid sloshing onto her.
In an instant, it’s lights out for her.
Elation courses through her veins as Arkani wakes up in a sprint. The scenery zips by her with extraordinary speed, and yet, she can keep going. She can go even faster.
A root snaps up from the ground, pulling her down to the ground with a tremendous thud.
A laugh escapes her lips. What is this feeling?
“Wait, you're going to-” The voice is cut off by rattling chimes and a howl of dismay. “What did you do to the shrine?!”
Arkani rolls to her paws, checking herself for wounds, tasting blood in her mouth. She’s covered from head to toe in sap and dyed with half-crushed flowers. A Fae sprints into the grove behind her, a heavy shawl covering her eyes, frills raised in rage.
“Who are you?! Look what you've done!” She storms to where she approximates Arkani are, and she realizes that she must be blind. “I told you to stop! I was shrieking, howling! Do you have ears? You've hurt the younglings!”
The crater spreads from the root Arkani tripped on to the foot of the biggest tree, dirt and mud replacing what must once have been a vibrant flower patch. The impact is still resonating through her body. I can’t catch a break, can I?
“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear- at ta ta ta…!” Arkani winces from the pain. “I don’t know where or who I am… I’m just… w-what can I do to f-fix or help…?” Her legs buckle out from beneath her; the trauma from two major falls is too much for her body to handle. “I’m sorry…” Arkani whimpers.
“Oh no, no no no no no, I didn't mean to kill you! Hang on a sec, I can-” The Fae panics at Arkani's collapse, moving over to check for injuries. Her claws run over Arkani’s fur, searching for wounds and bruises she wouldn't be able to see.
“I’ve… huff… always been the weakest, haven’t I mom?” Arkani’s voice is weak, barely even a whisper, slipping in and out of the sense of consciousness. “I couldn’t… huff... couldn’t… even protect you…”
“Silly, you’ve got it backwards!” A familiar voice whispers into her ear. “A child shouldn’t be the one doing the protecting.”
“That’s our job.” Another voice rumbles in her other ear.
“That’s right. It’s the parents job to protect their children.”
But what if you aren’t there to protect me?
“Cupcake, one day, when we can’t protect you from the world, when you don’t know what to do, you’ll look back and remember our words and our actions. And that will be enough. I promise.”
Warmth rests on Arkani's head as the Fae steps back with her fans frilled out in bafflement after she inspected her. “You seem fine. I mean, maybe you cracked your skull? I wouldn't be able to tell. I can make painkillers, though! We can go over that way in the morning, I have the ingredients at home.”
“H-home?” Arkani mumbles in a pained groan. Her paw twitches, clawing out. “I...want to go home…”
Where is home?
Shadows press against Arkani’s fur. Their presence is mind-numbingly choking. They sneer, leering with their pointing teeth, curling around her in mock devouring.
The sickly scent of death floods her lungs. Arkani sputters out in pain, the shadows infiltrating anything they can cling to. Her arms fling out in panic, clawing at her skin, trying to destroy that which lives within her.
That which wishes to devour her.
Last edited on May 08, 2026 16:12:48 by ZeplenKing
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[center][size=5][b]Arkani[/b][/size]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/qnc/3461646/1#post_3461646]Cursed Roots[/url]
Hosted by DuskAwakening
part 2[/center]
[hidden title="Cursed Roots"]
Arkani jerks to, panting and clutching at her chest. Her head throbs, spreading from head to toe in a steady thrum. Arkani takes in deep breaths, trying to calm her heart.
She must’ve mustered up some strength to move under this makeshift tent. She should be grateful, really, but the shadows make her claustrophobic.
Nothing seems to be wrong, but nothing seems to be right, either.
The cool breeze nips at her drenched fur, whispering, teasing her. It was as if it was trying to speak to her and then mock her when she tried to listen.
Arkani limps out of the tent, away from the dreadfully snoring Fae that chewed her ear off over something she had little control over. She tries to search through her memories, to recall anything between her collapse and now. All that comes to her are fuzzy images and open mouths with no words.
[i]Control?[/i]
She lets out a soft laugh. [i]What a fickle and twisted thing control is. You never really have it.[/i]
Arkani sits in the clearing of the grove, taking in the ambience. It’s peaceful, soothing the fever that riddles her, albeit cold. Her mind drifts.
She could leave. There’s nothing stopping her. Or… is there?
Save for her aching body, she has a chance at finding herself in this soggy quest to retrieve another’s memories. She’s not going to let it go. Not when this necklace still sits in the clutches of her claws and her mind that keeps tugging her thoughts to it. Arkani rubs a claw over the silver wolf. [i]Not to mention…[/i]
She was given freedom, abundant stamina and power to race through the forest at such speeds. And in an instant, it was ripped away from her.
There’s no telling what governs this world. [i]World?[/i]
Arkani rests on that little word, savouring it, turning it over in her thoughts. Why did she think that? Why does it feel so important?
The slight breeze feels refreshing and the soft chimes hinting in the peaceful ambiance soothe Arkani’s mind. It felt familiar to her.
A leaf hits her face, making her face scrunch up with mild annoyance at the disturbance. Arkani turns it over, inspecting the fresh leaf. Something about it is familiar.
A nagging feeling begins to ebb away at her, slithering into her thoughts, sinking its fangs into her hope.
Whose memories are whose? Even if she remembers, how much will be muddled with this stranger’s?
Arkani turns the leaf over again.
[i]Weak little Arkani,[/i] the leaves whisper. [i]Little lost thing.[/i]
The name, [i]her name[/i], hits like a tidal wave. Her claws sink into the ground, her eyes wide.
“So that is my name…” Arkani laughs and laughs, panting between little chuckles. “Arkani…”
The doubt isn’t unfounded. In fact, she probably won’t be able to discern the reality from this dream. From the entities that manipulate stories like puppet masters, blending half-truths in a sea of plausibility.
Whispers of unknown dragons mixing with memories of her parents' voices, their soft words and forgotten reassurances. It feels like the leaves are taking those voices too - pulling them from her mind and adding them to the ever-stream of secrets.
Arkani wants to scream, to roar into the void to give your memories back, to stop stealing the last dregs of her tattered mind, but she couldn’t move. The grove has grown around her, twisting her into a prison of vines and roots and trapping her in with the darkness that slinks inside her chest. Somehow, she feels like it [i]knows[/i].
[i]If it knows… then why isn’t it fighting him?[/i]
The thought startles her.
[i]Can’t it see? It’s-[/i]
Static frizzles out her thoughts.
[i]“Naïve-”[/i]
Naive? Arkani couldn’t deny that.
[i]“- a bad idea, a really bad idea -”[/i]
Was this a bad idea? Certainly.
But it was all she had.
[i]“It's only because she's his daughter -”
“- didn't she see a bad omen in that rain?”
[b]“I think you should run faster.”[b][/i]
Arkani flinches at the last whisper, the one that nips into her bones. Two voices melded together, sweet and sinister, the shadows shifting under the dazzling sunlight that breaks through into the grove. She blinks with a start at registering the sun.
Tiny claws pull at the ivy, freeing her a sliver at a time. “Was this you?! Feel the grove, just feel it!” An excited voice wrenches another handful free.
Urgency sinks into her battered body as she rises from the patch of accelerated growth.
Something was coming. Something dreadful.
“Thank you for rescuing me.” Arkani swallows the edge in her voice. “Listen… there’s…” She opens her mouth, then shuts it. She doesn’t even know what to say or what she’s trying to say. “I’m sorry… nevermind.”
The trek is awkward at best. With the grove so vastly different, the mental map the little fae had is backfiring on her.
“Would… would you like to use me while you readjust to the grove?” Arkani finally speaks up after she bumps into a tree for the third time. “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t want you to end up like me. Falling is all I seem to do.”
“Tell me about it. I’m always tripping over stuff I know is there.” If Monster senses the weight of the words, she doesn’t show it. She must be perceptive enough, must have earned the title of Seer for [i]some[/i] reason, but she’s either unaware or unwilling to draw attention to Arkani’s deep-rooted sense of failure tugging at her soul.
After some time, the Fae steps out into an old quarry, sunlight highlighting her back with warmth.
The Fae turns to Arkani and motions for her to come out. “Cmon, it's okay.” Arkani winces at the shadows.
When Arkani sees the lair, her heart sinks. That whisper, that terrible whisper, was right. [i]She can’t see it.[/i] She can’t see the warning she tried to give her, or registered the terrible, awful omen that’s haunting her steps. This whole [i]place[/i] is a bad omen. No children, no nests, [s][i]no parents to protect you[/i][/s] - a pack of husks without purpose or family (family, family, [i]family[/i]), all wrapped up in the nostalgic scent of baking bread.
Arkani feels sick to her stomach and slightly empty, her world fracturing and tilting sideways. Some part of her is on the edge of remembering, grasping at the familiar unknown, but it slips away too fast. Something vastly important.
[i]Fate is an evil thing.[/i]
“I have an announcement to make,” she stands up on her back legs, spreading her wings to make herself look bigger. “A gift from the Roots! New kin, just in time for Second Rain!”
Every eye follows as Arkani steps into the light. The reaction is visceral, immediate; some flatten their ears, some bare their teeth, and others back away.
“What is [i]that?[/i]”
Monster lifts her frills with pride. Either she doesn't recognise or she doesn't acknowledge that something is wrong. “This is -”
Static fills Arkani’s ears.
[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/wN3mWWhq/sketch-1771382474705.png[/img][/center]
“- and they're blessed by the Roots. They regrew the forest like it was nothing! I woke up this morning and I didn't even recognize the grove. You should go there! See it!” She pauses at the silence, no muscle moving but hers. “This dragon is something special. I'm not just Seer by name, you know! You don't think I know a sign when it hits us in the grove?! Don't you [i]trust[/i] me?”
An unsettled silence falls in the glade. Every eye is still on Arkani, uneasy, disturbed. Something about her is revolting, repelling. The shadows make that clear, swirling in the cruxes of the darkness that seeps into this land. The longer the dragons stare, the more uneasy she feels.
Like something is about to break loose.
Some deep part of her knows that they aren’t looking at the dream-thing like that, they’re looking at [i]her[/i]. She could hide behind the fact that this is someone else, that these are memories pulled out of someone else’s walls, but she knows it’s not true, not really. She’s an empty husk without memories, rotting with infection she never had the chance to prevent, shadowed by the darkness that fills her with an endless river of ink: she’s [i]hideous[/i].
It takes a disturbingly long time for the next dragon to speak, but it’s a welcome reprieve from her nerves.
“The Seer has spoken,” a grim-faced imperial raises his voice, tentative but firm. “So the Roots have spoken. We shouldn't question that. Are you sure, Monster?” [i]So that is her name.[/i] Arkani savours the name, almost chuckling at it. “Your eyes, they can't see what we -”
“I see what I need to see, Ascendant. When I met them, I could have sworn I was face to face with-” she stops. “Can't you feel it? There's a spark of divine here, and they're the ones that brought it. I wouldn't lead you astray!”
“Thank you, urm, Ascendant, Monster,” Arkani speaks softly under the skeptical gazes. “I’m…” [i]I know I shouldn’t be here.[/i] Anxiety continues to settle into the pit of her stomach, churning in the back of her mind.
The scent of death lingers ever closer.[/hidden]
Cursed RootsArkani jerks to, panting and clutching at her chest. Her head throbs, spreading from head to toe in a steady thrum. Arkani takes in deep breaths, trying to calm her heart.
She must’ve mustered up some strength to move under this makeshift tent. She should be grateful, really, but the shadows make her claustrophobic.
Nothing seems to be wrong, but nothing seems to be right, either.
The cool breeze nips at her drenched fur, whispering, teasing her. It was as if it was trying to speak to her and then mock her when she tried to listen.
Arkani limps out of the tent, away from the dreadfully snoring Fae that chewed her ear off over something she had little control over. She tries to search through her memories, to recall anything between her collapse and now. All that comes to her are fuzzy images and open mouths with no words.
Control?
She lets out a soft laugh. What a fickle and twisted thing control is. You never really have it.
Arkani sits in the clearing of the grove, taking in the ambience. It’s peaceful, soothing the fever that riddles her, albeit cold. Her mind drifts.
She could leave. There’s nothing stopping her. Or… is there?
Save for her aching body, she has a chance at finding herself in this soggy quest to retrieve another’s memories. She’s not going to let it go. Not when this necklace still sits in the clutches of her claws and her mind that keeps tugging her thoughts to it. Arkani rubs a claw over the silver wolf. Not to mention…
She was given freedom, abundant stamina and power to race through the forest at such speeds. And in an instant, it was ripped away from her.
There’s no telling what governs this world. World?
Arkani rests on that little word, savouring it, turning it over in her thoughts. Why did she think that? Why does it feel so important?
The slight breeze feels refreshing and the soft chimes hinting in the peaceful ambiance soothe Arkani’s mind. It felt familiar to her.
A leaf hits her face, making her face scrunch up with mild annoyance at the disturbance. Arkani turns it over, inspecting the fresh leaf. Something about it is familiar.
A nagging feeling begins to ebb away at her, slithering into her thoughts, sinking its fangs into her hope.
Whose memories are whose? Even if she remembers, how much will be muddled with this stranger’s?
Arkani turns the leaf over again.
Weak little Arkani, the leaves whisper. Little lost thing.
The name, her name, hits like a tidal wave. Her claws sink into the ground, her eyes wide.
“So that is my name…” Arkani laughs and laughs, panting between little chuckles. “Arkani…”
The doubt isn’t unfounded. In fact, she probably won’t be able to discern the reality from this dream. From the entities that manipulate stories like puppet masters, blending half-truths in a sea of plausibility.
Whispers of unknown dragons mixing with memories of her parents' voices, their soft words and forgotten reassurances. It feels like the leaves are taking those voices too - pulling them from her mind and adding them to the ever-stream of secrets.
Arkani wants to scream, to roar into the void to give your memories back, to stop stealing the last dregs of her tattered mind, but she couldn’t move. The grove has grown around her, twisting her into a prison of vines and roots and trapping her in with the darkness that slinks inside her chest. Somehow, she feels like it knows.
If it knows… then why isn’t it fighting him?
The thought startles her.
Can’t it see? It’s-
Static frizzles out her thoughts.
“Naïve-”
Naive? Arkani couldn’t deny that.
“- a bad idea, a really bad idea -”
Was this a bad idea? Certainly.
But it was all she had.
“It's only because she's his daughter -”
“- didn't she see a bad omen in that rain?”
“I think you should run faster.”
Arkani flinches at the last whisper, the one that nips into her bones. Two voices melded together, sweet and sinister, the shadows shifting under the dazzling sunlight that breaks through into the grove. She blinks with a start at registering the sun.
Tiny claws pull at the ivy, freeing her a sliver at a time. “Was this you?! Feel the grove, just feel it!” An excited voice wrenches another handful free.
Urgency sinks into her battered body as she rises from the patch of accelerated growth.
Something was coming. Something dreadful.
“Thank you for rescuing me.” Arkani swallows the edge in her voice. “Listen… there’s…” She opens her mouth, then shuts it. She doesn’t even know what to say or what she’s trying to say. “I’m sorry… nevermind.”
The trek is awkward at best. With the grove so vastly different, the mental map the little fae had is backfiring on her.
“Would… would you like to use me while you readjust to the grove?” Arkani finally speaks up after she bumps into a tree for the third time. “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t want you to end up like me. Falling is all I seem to do.”
“Tell me about it. I’m always tripping over stuff I know is there.” If Monster senses the weight of the words, she doesn’t show it. She must be perceptive enough, must have earned the title of Seer for some reason, but she’s either unaware or unwilling to draw attention to Arkani’s deep-rooted sense of failure tugging at her soul.
After some time, the Fae steps out into an old quarry, sunlight highlighting her back with warmth.
The Fae turns to Arkani and motions for her to come out. “Cmon, it's okay.” Arkani winces at the shadows.
When Arkani sees the lair, her heart sinks. That whisper, that terrible whisper, was right. She can’t see it. She can’t see the warning she tried to give her, or registered the terrible, awful omen that’s haunting her steps. This whole place is a bad omen. No children, no nests,
Arkani feels sick to her stomach and slightly empty, her world fracturing and tilting sideways. Some part of her is on the edge of remembering, grasping at the familiar unknown, but it slips away too fast. Something vastly important.
Fate is an evil thing.
“I have an announcement to make,” she stands up on her back legs, spreading her wings to make herself look bigger. “A gift from the Roots! New kin, just in time for Second Rain!”
Every eye follows as Arkani steps into the light. The reaction is visceral, immediate; some flatten their ears, some bare their teeth, and others back away.
“What is that?”
Monster lifts her frills with pride. Either she doesn't recognise or she doesn't acknowledge that something is wrong. “This is -”
Static fills Arkani’s ears.
“- and they're blessed by the Roots. They regrew the forest like it was nothing! I woke up this morning and I didn't even recognize the grove. You should go there! See it!” She pauses at the silence, no muscle moving but hers. “This dragon is something special. I'm not just Seer by name, you know! You don't think I know a sign when it hits us in the grove?! Don't you trust me?”
An unsettled silence falls in the glade. Every eye is still on Arkani, uneasy, disturbed. Something about her is revolting, repelling. The shadows make that clear, swirling in the cruxes of the darkness that seeps into this land. The longer the dragons stare, the more uneasy she feels.
Like something is about to break loose.
Some deep part of her knows that they aren’t looking at the dream-thing like that, they’re looking at her. She could hide behind the fact that this is someone else, that these are memories pulled out of someone else’s walls, but she knows it’s not true, not really. She’s an empty husk without memories, rotting with infection she never had the chance to prevent, shadowed by the darkness that fills her with an endless river of ink: she’s hideous.
It takes a disturbingly long time for the next dragon to speak, but it’s a welcome reprieve from her nerves.
“The Seer has spoken,” a grim-faced imperial raises his voice, tentative but firm. “So the Roots have spoken. We shouldn't question that. Are you sure, Monster?” So that is her name. Arkani savours the name, almost chuckling at it. “Your eyes, they can't see what we -”
“I see what I need to see, Ascendant. When I met them, I could have sworn I was face to face with-” she stops. “Can't you feel it? There's a spark of divine here, and they're the ones that brought it. I wouldn't lead you astray!”
“Thank you, urm, Ascendant, Monster,” Arkani speaks softly under the skeptical gazes. “I’m…” I know I shouldn’t be here. Anxiety continues to settle into the pit of her stomach, churning in the back of her mind.
The scent of death lingers ever closer.
Last edited on May 08, 2026 16:31:47 by ZeplenKing
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Cursed RootsShadows drip from the trees, pooling in the darkest of places. Decay seeps into the soil, spreading with slow intent, turning the little corner of life into a decaying abomination. A paw begins to materialize, ichor oozing like a freshly made wound.
I can smell them. Almost taste them.
A crooked smile leers from the shadows.
A silent chant rises in echoes of darkness. Birdsong falls silent, not even the hint of a cricket to be heard.
A little longer… and I’ll be free.
And you will be too.
…
Monster is pulled away from Arkani, who protests this action, by a bright, burly Gaoler. The Gaoler positions herself between Arkani as she herds Monster away, glaring with reproachful disapproval. Arkani lowers her head, but Monster throws these words over the Gaoler’s shoulder. “Get comfy, okay? I'll be right back.”
Comfy? Arkani bites back a retort. She sighs, sweeping her gaze over the harsh welcome, avoiding eye contact. They all look the same. They may be uniquely colored, but it all blends together. Flightless… no… they’re practically lifeless.
Arkani approaches the one semi-decent dragon of the bunch, Ascendant. He sits back on his haunches, studying her with a shrewd glare.
At last, he speaks, “It's been a long time since our little Monster saw a good omen, but for all her flaws, she doesn't lie. I don't need to go to the grove to know that you've done something pretty unique.” He doesn't sound happy about it. “I don't know what you are, or why you've come, but if the Roots sent you, then you're right on time.” He stands, bidding Arkani to follow as he pads through the clearing, wading across an overflowing stream. “I'll put you up in the main cave, if you don't mind the stares. We have… well. We're not short of spare beds.”
He leads Arkani into the cave, and there she is: standing in the same place she stumbled into half a dream ago. The translucent shape of her broken own body amongst the pots, phasing through one of many hammocks that must have rotted away a long time ago. Her eyes linger for a moment.
He's right about the beds. There are far too many for the clan. Maybe once upon a time, but clearly not now. Arkani’s gaze drifts to the walls, the bright colors luring her in.
“One per dragon,” the Ascendant notices her looking. “It's how the Roots recognise us. At every stage of life, we wash the old one away and repaint it. There are no duplicates up there, none at all.” He looks proud, lifting his head to study the rock. “As you can see, we used to be tenfold. If the Roots have blessed us, maybe we can get there again. Maybe you really are a sign.”
“Is… that what you see?” Her voice cracks, something inside her breaking at the pride he displays and the weight of those words. Only one per dragon. She places a paw on the wall. “What caged birds you are…”
No wonder this place reeks.
No wonder they look lifeless.
They’re not allowed to live.
This place… is cursed…
The Ascendant glares at her, and she quickly realises what she’s done. She’s insulted something precious to him.
“If that’s how you see us, perhaps you shouldn’t sleep inside the cave. We wouldn’t want to cage you, after all.” He takes in a deep breath, visibly trying to rein in his mood. “I apologise. That was… uncalled for.”
Arkani shakes her head. “No, I’m the one at fault.” She turns her gaze back to the mural, her features growing somber. “I have no semblance of who I am.” Arkani lets out a half-hearted chuckle. “If anything, I’m the one locked in a cage of my own making. But… this,” She traces one of the drawings, hovering over it so as not to damage it with her skepticism. “Something about it has struck a cord. I’m not sure how to put it into words; heck, I don’t even know what I’m saying. Something just feels… misused, misguided. Like…” Arkani trembles over the drawings of the hatchlings. “There should be more of them. Unprecedented growth. Abundant life. Maybe I just don’t understand. I’m an outsider after all.” Arkani turns to the Ascendant with a wobbling smile. A single tear glistens on her cheek.
The Ascendant lowers his head to Arkani. “I… I appreciate the apology,” he says softly, genuinely. “Time hasn’t treated us well in recent years. We… we used to…” He trails off. Arkani keeps quiet, watching him. “This clutch,” he gestures to the smallest group of hatchlings at the bottom of the wall. “Flooded out of the nest. We found their bodies in time to commit them to the Roots, but… well. It drove their mother mad.” he folds his ears back, the emotions he's showing on the outside being carefully regulated. He moves through the younglings, telling her about them, their little personalities, their families, their deaths. Starvation, sickness, flooding, cold…
“Our Monster, though, she knew she was going to survive,” crow’s feet crinkle in the fur around his eyes. “And she was going to make it our problem. Little Monster… that’s why we called her that.”
“I-I’m sorry. I should go. I-I…” A shudder overtakes her body, sorrow coursing through her.
He notices Arkani’s shuddering and sudden tears, and he frowns. He reaches out a claw, hesitating before resting it on her shoulder, overcoming whatever initial disgust made him pause. “Hey… you don’t need to go. I’m sorry about my anger. I…” He tilts his head. “Are you okay, youngling?”
All she could see in that moment were the scores of bodies of familiar faces. People she helped bury. Arkani brings her claws to her face, the feeling of blood staining her paws.
They were trapped.
He came…
And he devoured them all.
A mournful howl escapes her lungs.
No, she’s not okay.
Is this place some sick memory dredged up from the back of her mind, dragged into a moment of lucidity to punish her? Is he waiting on the edge of it, poised to attack again, cruel enough to wait until she cares about these dragons to do it?
A chain loosens. Snapping under the weight of cold reality.
Yes, yes, because he always is, because that’s what he is. Even in someone else’s dream, he’s going to find her, find them, just because he can. Because that is who he is.
When she can’t mourn any longer, she rises from the floor, brushing away the tears and snot.
“I… sorry… thank you…” The words jumble out of her mouth. “I… remembered something. Fragments.” Her jaw sets, looking toward the exit. “We burned so many. Friends, family, people we cared about. They were all… gone. We warned them. Countless times. In the end… they…” She shakes her head. “I don’t want the same to happen to you. To this clan.” Arkani takes a deep breath. “Thank you for telling me their stories, even though they hurt. I'm sorry again for insulting this and you. It is a precious thing.”
In the end, he shows her to the place she would be sleeping. “Take that one.” He turns away from the wall, gesturing to the same hammock her sleeping body is phasing through. “Make yourself at home. Just… don't touch anything that isn't yours, okay?”
No matter how much Arkani tries, no one will give her the time of day. They won’t give her a chance. She wanted to do something, anything to take her mind off the shadows.
It isn’t until much later, after countless arguments, that Monster returns with a meal. It isn’t enough to satisfy her appetite, but given the state of the clan, it’s virtually all they could muster. And she didn’t want to pry them of any more resources when they can scarcely feed themselves. They were used to the hunger.
Monster sits beside her. “You'd think they'd know how to treat a Scion of the Roots, but they're being a right pain about it. They'll come around, I know they will.” Her energy shifts, and her frills droop to the back of her neck. “They think I'm unreliable. The fae who forgot to cry wolf. But it wasn't my fault that-” she stops herself, not ready to talk about it.
“Monster.” Arkani looks up at the voice, expecting hostility, but is met with a grimness that feels all too familiar. “It's Jas. This last rain was too much for them. I was told to get you, but… it’s not looking good. I wouldn’t bring the herbs.”
Arkani freezes upon entering the scene. She’s heard a death rattle before. But where? There’s no mistaking that wheeze, that horrible, crackling gasp that can only mean one thing. Arkani wants to cover her ears, to hide from the sound. Every fiber of her being is screaming for her to run. This was a far more visceral reaction than the anxiety that was building in her. Her eyes scan everywhere, darting back and forth with creeping terror.
The moment she lays eyes on the malnourished, almost dead, Tundra, she wants to hurl. The scent of death oozes from the poor soul. Jutting haunches and protruding ribs, skin sliding over bone where it used to be padded with fat. The gurgling, rattling lungs spurred on by the wetness of this land.
A sickening thought crosses her mind.
Burn. I must burn him.
Monster is shaking, but not nearly as much as Arkani. Her mind swirls with the sickening, horrifying train of thought.
He can’t be allowed to take him.
“The paint.” The other dragon, a dark-furred gaoler, pushes a bowl towards Arkani. The paint is vibrant and green, thickened with some kind of foul-smelling glue. Monster dips her claws and washes them in it, staining her hands with slick pigment. The Painter gestures for Arkani to do the same.
Arkani swallows the lump in her throat. Sick, twisted, lump. She stares at the foul liquid. Arkani takes it with shaking paws. No. I…
She knows what Monster is trying to do. What she wants her to do. Why she brought her here. A miracle. Monster wants a miracle. To prove to herself and to her clan that she is right, that a blessing is upon them.
Monster reaches towards the Tundra, but a guttural, rasping gurgle that bubbles through mucus in the lungs makes her jump back, trembling like a leaf, her own breath catching in her throat. “I, I can't, I'm sorry, I can't,” her voice shatters.
“Little one,” the dark gaoler speaks softly but firmly. “They're going. They need to be committed to the Roots. Now is not the time to be squeamish.”
“No. No no no,” she's hiccuping now, her voice coming out in soft, broken sobs. “It's not time yet, they were getting better, they just need a bit more time-”
“Monster! Stop this childish wailing! You're the Seer, for the sake of the Roots!”
Monster drops to the ground, looking to the spot where she knows Arkani is sitting. Her frills are pressed flat against her neck. “Can you do it…? Please?”
Tears drip down the side of Arkani's cheeks.
There is no good choice.
Even if it was a mercy killing. Even if she could save him…
Arkani reaches out to paint the fading Tundra.
All of the roads lead to destruction.
For he is upon them.
And there is nowhere for them to run or hide.
Arkani touches the ragged Tundra, practically lifeless to the touch. Her claws tremble against his skin.
“You know he’s mine.”
A terrible voice enters her mind.
“It’s only a matter of time.”
The shadow furls into a wispy form, clutching her extended arm. No… A sob overtakes Arkani as the shadow presses her claw into Jas’ skin. How easy it is to slice through his flesh. Arkani shuts her eyes, fighting for control.
“If only you had killed him. He wouldn’t have felt a thing.”
The voice chuckles at the stains spreading through the Tundra and the sickening flailing and contorting. Raspy gasps and wretched twitching.
“This is what’ll happen to every single one of them…”
“Stop! Stop!” A voice yells.
“But it doesn’t have to be that way…”
A final stroke.
“Just surrender to me.”
Cursed RootsShadows drip from the trees, pooling in the darkest of places. Decay seeps into the soil, spreading with slow intent, turning the little corner of life into a decaying abomination. A paw begins to materialize, ichor oozing like a freshly made wound.
I can smell them. Almost taste them.
A crooked smile leers from the shadows.
A silent chant rises in echoes of darkness. Birdsong falls silent, not even the hint of a cricket to be heard.
A little longer… and I’ll be free.
And you will be too.
…
Monster is pulled away from Arkani, who protests this action, by a bright, burly Gaoler. The Gaoler positions herself between Arkani as she herds Monster away, glaring with reproachful disapproval. Arkani lowers her head, but Monster throws these words over the Gaoler’s shoulder. “Get comfy, okay? I'll be right back.”
Comfy? Arkani bites back a retort. She sighs, sweeping her gaze over the harsh welcome, avoiding eye contact. They all look the same. They may be uniquely colored, but it all blends together. Flightless… no… they’re practically lifeless.
Arkani approaches the one semi-decent dragon of the bunch, Ascendant. He sits back on his haunches, studying her with a shrewd glare.
At last, he speaks, “It's been a long time since our little Monster saw a good omen, but for all her flaws, she doesn't lie. I don't need to go to the grove to know that you've done something pretty unique.” He doesn't sound happy about it. “I don't know what you are, or why you've come, but if the Roots sent you, then you're right on time.” He stands, bidding Arkani to follow as he pads through the clearing, wading across an overflowing stream. “I'll put you up in the main cave, if you don't mind the stares. We have… well. We're not short of spare beds.”
He leads Arkani into the cave, and there she is: standing in the same place she stumbled into half a dream ago. The translucent shape of her broken own body amongst the pots, phasing through one of many hammocks that must have rotted away a long time ago. Her eyes linger for a moment.
He's right about the beds. There are far too many for the clan. Maybe once upon a time, but clearly not now. Arkani’s gaze drifts to the walls, the bright colors luring her in.
“One per dragon,” the Ascendant notices her looking. “It's how the Roots recognise us. At every stage of life, we wash the old one away and repaint it. There are no duplicates up there, none at all.” He looks proud, lifting his head to study the rock. “As you can see, we used to be tenfold. If the Roots have blessed us, maybe we can get there again. Maybe you really are a sign.”
“Is… that what you see?” Her voice cracks, something inside her breaking at the pride he displays and the weight of those words. Only one per dragon. She places a paw on the wall. “What caged birds you are…”
No wonder this place reeks.
No wonder they look lifeless.
They’re not allowed to live.
This place… is cursed…
The Ascendant glares at her, and she quickly realises what she’s done. She’s insulted something precious to him.
“If that’s how you see us, perhaps you shouldn’t sleep inside the cave. We wouldn’t want to cage you, after all.” He takes in a deep breath, visibly trying to rein in his mood. “I apologise. That was… uncalled for.”
Arkani shakes her head. “No, I’m the one at fault.” She turns her gaze back to the mural, her features growing somber. “I have no semblance of who I am.” Arkani lets out a half-hearted chuckle. “If anything, I’m the one locked in a cage of my own making. But… this,” She traces one of the drawings, hovering over it so as not to damage it with her skepticism. “Something about it has struck a cord. I’m not sure how to put it into words; heck, I don’t even know what I’m saying. Something just feels… misused, misguided. Like…” Arkani trembles over the drawings of the hatchlings. “There should be more of them. Unprecedented growth. Abundant life. Maybe I just don’t understand. I’m an outsider after all.” Arkani turns to the Ascendant with a wobbling smile. A single tear glistens on her cheek.
The Ascendant lowers his head to Arkani. “I… I appreciate the apology,” he says softly, genuinely. “Time hasn’t treated us well in recent years. We… we used to…” He trails off. Arkani keeps quiet, watching him. “This clutch,” he gestures to the smallest group of hatchlings at the bottom of the wall. “Flooded out of the nest. We found their bodies in time to commit them to the Roots, but… well. It drove their mother mad.” he folds his ears back, the emotions he's showing on the outside being carefully regulated. He moves through the younglings, telling her about them, their little personalities, their families, their deaths. Starvation, sickness, flooding, cold…
“Our Monster, though, she knew she was going to survive,” crow’s feet crinkle in the fur around his eyes. “And she was going to make it our problem. Little Monster… that’s why we called her that.”
“I-I’m sorry. I should go. I-I…” A shudder overtakes her body, sorrow coursing through her.
He notices Arkani’s shuddering and sudden tears, and he frowns. He reaches out a claw, hesitating before resting it on her shoulder, overcoming whatever initial disgust made him pause. “Hey… you don’t need to go. I’m sorry about my anger. I…” He tilts his head. “Are you okay, youngling?”
All she could see in that moment were the scores of bodies of familiar faces. People she helped bury. Arkani brings her claws to her face, the feeling of blood staining her paws.
They were trapped.
He came…
And he devoured them all.
A mournful howl escapes her lungs.
No, she’s not okay.
Is this place some sick memory dredged up from the back of her mind, dragged into a moment of lucidity to punish her? Is he waiting on the edge of it, poised to attack again, cruel enough to wait until she cares about these dragons to do it?
A chain loosens. Snapping under the weight of cold reality.
Yes, yes, because he always is, because that’s what he is. Even in someone else’s dream, he’s going to find her, find them, just because he can. Because that is who he is.
When she can’t mourn any longer, she rises from the floor, brushing away the tears and snot.
“I… sorry… thank you…” The words jumble out of her mouth. “I… remembered something. Fragments.” Her jaw sets, looking toward the exit. “We burned so many. Friends, family, people we cared about. They were all… gone. We warned them. Countless times. In the end… they…” She shakes her head. “I don’t want the same to happen to you. To this clan.” Arkani takes a deep breath. “Thank you for telling me their stories, even though they hurt. I'm sorry again for insulting this and you. It is a precious thing.”
In the end, he shows her to the place she would be sleeping. “Take that one.” He turns away from the wall, gesturing to the same hammock her sleeping body is phasing through. “Make yourself at home. Just… don't touch anything that isn't yours, okay?”
No matter how much Arkani tries, no one will give her the time of day. They won’t give her a chance. She wanted to do something, anything to take her mind off the shadows.
It isn’t until much later, after countless arguments, that Monster returns with a meal. It isn’t enough to satisfy her appetite, but given the state of the clan, it’s virtually all they could muster. And she didn’t want to pry them of any more resources when they can scarcely feed themselves. They were used to the hunger.
Monster sits beside her. “You'd think they'd know how to treat a Scion of the Roots, but they're being a right pain about it. They'll come around, I know they will.” Her energy shifts, and her frills droop to the back of her neck. “They think I'm unreliable. The fae who forgot to cry wolf. But it wasn't my fault that-” she stops herself, not ready to talk about it.
“Monster.” Arkani looks up at the voice, expecting hostility, but is met with a grimness that feels all too familiar. “It's Jas. This last rain was too much for them. I was told to get you, but… it’s not looking good. I wouldn’t bring the herbs.”
Arkani freezes upon entering the scene. She’s heard a death rattle before. But where? There’s no mistaking that wheeze, that horrible, crackling gasp that can only mean one thing. Arkani wants to cover her ears, to hide from the sound. Every fiber of her being is screaming for her to run. This was a far more visceral reaction than the anxiety that was building in her. Her eyes scan everywhere, darting back and forth with creeping terror.
The moment she lays eyes on the malnourished, almost dead, Tundra, she wants to hurl. The scent of death oozes from the poor soul. Jutting haunches and protruding ribs, skin sliding over bone where it used to be padded with fat. The gurgling, rattling lungs spurred on by the wetness of this land.
A sickening thought crosses her mind.
Burn. I must burn him.
Monster is shaking, but not nearly as much as Arkani. Her mind swirls with the sickening, horrifying train of thought.
He can’t be allowed to take him.
“The paint.” The other dragon, a dark-furred gaoler, pushes a bowl towards Arkani. The paint is vibrant and green, thickened with some kind of foul-smelling glue. Monster dips her claws and washes them in it, staining her hands with slick pigment. The Painter gestures for Arkani to do the same.
Arkani swallows the lump in her throat. Sick, twisted, lump. She stares at the foul liquid. Arkani takes it with shaking paws. No. I…
She knows what Monster is trying to do. What she wants her to do. Why she brought her here. A miracle. Monster wants a miracle. To prove to herself and to her clan that she is right, that a blessing is upon them.
Monster reaches towards the Tundra, but a guttural, rasping gurgle that bubbles through mucus in the lungs makes her jump back, trembling like a leaf, her own breath catching in her throat. “I, I can't, I'm sorry, I can't,” her voice shatters.
“Little one,” the dark gaoler speaks softly but firmly. “They're going. They need to be committed to the Roots. Now is not the time to be squeamish.”
“No. No no no,” she's hiccuping now, her voice coming out in soft, broken sobs. “It's not time yet, they were getting better, they just need a bit more time-”
“Monster! Stop this childish wailing! You're the Seer, for the sake of the Roots!”
Monster drops to the ground, looking to the spot where she knows Arkani is sitting. Her frills are pressed flat against her neck. “Can you do it…? Please?”
Tears drip down the side of Arkani's cheeks.
There is no good choice.
Even if it was a mercy killing. Even if she could save him…
Arkani reaches out to paint the fading Tundra.
All of the roads lead to destruction.
For he is upon them.
And there is nowhere for them to run or hide.
Arkani touches the ragged Tundra, practically lifeless to the touch. Her claws tremble against his skin.
“You know he’s mine.”
A terrible voice enters her mind.
“It’s only a matter of time.”
The shadow furls into a wispy form, clutching her extended arm. No… A sob overtakes Arkani as the shadow presses her claw into Jas’ skin. How easy it is to slice through his flesh. Arkani shuts her eyes, fighting for control.
“If only you had killed him. He wouldn’t have felt a thing.”
The voice chuckles at the stains spreading through the Tundra and the sickening flailing and contorting. Raspy gasps and wretched twitching.
“This is what’ll happen to every single one of them…”
“Stop! Stop!” A voice yells.
“But it doesn’t have to be that way…”
A final stroke.
“Just surrender to me.”
Last edited on May 08, 2026 16:21:13 by ZeplenKing
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Arkani
Cursed Roots
Hosted by DuskAwakening
part 4
In Your Nightmares (Poppy Playtime) - Glitch Whisper
Cursed Roots
Hosted by DuskAwakening
part 4
In Your Nightmares (Poppy Playtime) - Glitch Whisper
Cursed Roots“NO! I won’t let you!” Arkani roars, snatching her claws back with violent force. Flora explodes from her spot, painting the deathbed into a garden of color. Arkani pants, swallowing feverishly.
A cough shatters the dreaded chill in between her heavy breathing.
Monster begins to wail, relief at the forefront of her cry.
Arkani cracks an eye open.
Bright, curious eyes look back.
She knew it would happen, the writing was on the walls, and yet. Yet…
Arkani heaves herself over to an empty pot and hurls.
She feels sick to her stomach.
“You can’t hold me back for much longer.”
Arkani cries.
“I will devour them.”
It takes some time before she lets go of the pot. She wobbles back to the cave, flopping and stumbling into the bed. Exhaustion pulls her into a dreamless sleep.
The victory over death is hollow to her.
When she wakes, rare food is shoved into her face. Word of what happened spread like wildfire overnight.
And then, she’s put to work.
As Arkani carries yet another bucket out to the overflowing stream, a little hand grabs her leg. The bucket falls with a yelp of alarm, only to be dragged into the foliage with a claw pressed against her mouth.
“Shh!! You want them to hear you?” Monster’s grinning mischievously, releasing Arkani so that she can reposition herself, hidden from the clan by tall ferns and long grass. “I figured you needed a break.” She’s… a bit loud for what she’s trying to achieve. “Scion of the Roots, more like Rambra of the Grunt Work, am I right?”
Arkani chuckles. “Thank you. I needed that.”
They sit together in a nook by the quarry wall. Arkani shares the spiced honey with her, taking turns sipping from the thimble-sized cup it came in, although the acorns are off limits. She still hasn’t had the appetite after everything.
“I'm sorry I didn't warn you,” Monster speaks, her little paws shifting. “That they wouldn't be happy, I mean. It's not just about you, it's…” Monster takes a moment to choose her words. “At First Rain, I predict the Dead Year - the winter. Whether the Roots are happy, if we'll have good luck, if our stores will last, you know? But at the last festival before the bluebells stopped growing, I… I misread the signs. We were going to be fine, I said. We'd have to ration, but we wouldn't starve.”
A costly mistake.
The silence that follows her words is heavy, filled with things she can't seem to say. “Mum had a clutch back then.”
Arkani only nods. She understands. She wants to say something, but the words elude her. Much like everything about her.
Monster looks across at Arkani, expression sad. There’s something else between her, empathy, acknowledgement, the understanding that she really isn't okay.
“About Jas…” Monster whispers. “I don’t know what happened, or what you saw, but… you should know that you’re not on your own. You can talk to me.”
Arkani rubs the edge of the cup.
“I’m always on the cusp of remembering it all, and then it’s torn away.” She says after a moment. Arkani bites her lip, her features melting into sorrow. “All I have is a fragment of the truth. But it’s…” Arkani shivers. “I’m terrified of it. I feel like I’ve doomed us all.”
“Something lurks in the shadows, on the verge of breaking through.” Shame washes over her. “He’s… so repulsive, so sinister, that I… I wished for Jas to die. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put him out of his misery, even knowing that if he got his claws on him, he’d suffer far more than the sickness that was over him. I wished that the sickness would’ve taken him. That way, when he’s free, he won’t have to witness the horrors that follow because the Roots cannot save any of you from him.” She scratches at the mud. “How could I think something so twisted? So evil? Am I the real monster?” Arkani sighs, knowing very well it isn’t true. At least, not fully.
“I’m not a hero. Not a savior either. Just a lost soul. Someone fated to die in the end.” Arkani exhales slowly. “I don’t want to live like this.”
Then don’t.
“I won’t.”
“I don’t want the same to happen to you. To this clan.”
Monster is silent for a long time. “It’s happening, isn’t it?” She whispers. “I can feel it. It’s coming to the end. And… and I… I wish I knew why.”
Arkani buries her head into her paws, nodding silently.
“I do too.”
The moment is interrupted by a fern being pulled aside. “There you are. The paint is ready. It's time to add you to the wall.”
Arkani follows the Painter to the wall. Black paint is scratched into the wall.
Arkani takes the paint given to her.
She couldn’t make the call then.
But now…
Arkani begins painting.
She’s made up her mind.
And when she’s done, she clenches her jaw.
An auburn pelted wolf with murky highlights is biting into a grey dragon with various parts holding it together, red eyes bearing down on the wolf. The wolf and dragon coil together in a vicious death match.
She won’t waver this time.
She won’t.
It’s time to fight back.
Something is wrong with Jas.
In the sight of the clan, he’s spirited, alive, chatty. But when there aren’t any eyes on him, panic and fear override his life. Arkani feels guilty. She feels that her anxiety and fear have leaked into him.
Arkani wakes in the haze of night, riddled with the feeling that something is wrong. It’s different from the one that constantly looms over her shoulder.
Arkani gets up, padding softly in the dark to find the source of her new worry. A drizzle has begun.
She quickly finds the reason.
In the middle of the river sits Jas.
Her heart breaks silently at the sight.
“It's okay,” Jas speaks softly, acknowledging Arkani without looking up. “I wanted to be alone, but you're different.”
She approaches slowly. He won't look at her. Arkani can’t blame him; she doesn’t want to look at him, the weight of everything on her back. Come to think of it, Jas hasn’t looked at her since then.
“I shouldn't be here.” The Tundra whispers. “They already grieved for me. They were ready to let me go.” There's a lengthy pause. “I can't hurt them like this.” Jas breathes. “By not being … me. I can't let them grieve for who they think I should be. You get that, don't you? You, of all dragons.”
“I do,” Arkani replies, sitting on the bank, staring out into the forest beyond. “Monster, and now the others, think of me as a savior. That I am a blessing. The more that I see, the more that I remember, I’m… none of those things. I wish I could be like Monster, so full of hope and kind words. But, I’m just a curse on your lands. A husk with monsters just waiting for me to fall. I may just be the end. A fate worse than death.”
A weak smile forms on her face.
“I told myself that I’d fight back. That I’ve changed. But I’m terrified. I’m terrified of the horrors that remain unknown to me, but all too ingrained in my bones.” Arkani looks at Jas, her voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can stop him.” Arkani begins to choke on her words as the tears begin to come on again. “Please… go back to your family.” There’s urgency in her words. “Before we run out of time. I… I’ll think of something. I have to.”
...
“Midnight comes, the air turns cold
Close your eyes and rest your bones,”
Shadows unfurl at the brokenhearted. At a soul on the verge of collapse.
“Little creatures haunt your dreams,
Sleep is never what it seems.”
A figure steps out from the depths, a ready and wicked smile stretched across his face.
“Perfect.”
He cracks his neck back, the snap a dreadful noise. The slime from his mouth sinks to the earth, hungry, hissing as it eats away at the grime.
“In the shadows of your room, find them smiling back at you.
Critters come when you’re least prepared,
But as long as you sleep, you’ll never be scared.”
He takes in a deep breath. Tasting the sickly scent in the air.
“Until the nightmares make their way inside your head,
and take you from your bed,
and make you one of them.”
“Let us begin.” His eyes flash as he throws his arms out wide. Shadows rise from his claws, seeping into the dirt, searching. Hunting.
“Critters crawling everywhere,
Heed those falling into despair,
It’s a nightmare,
Come on out, they want to play.
All those screams will fade away.
In your nightmares.”
Ghostly claws wrench their way to the surface. Shadows pull them together in an uneven mess, bones popping in place in twisted ways. Gutteral screeches ignite in their lungs, their rotted and infected lungs. Bone-cased wings burst out of their backs, dripping with imperfect ichor.
Arkani
Cursed Roots
Hosted by DuskAwakening
part 4
In Your Nightmares (Poppy Playtime) - Glitch Whisper
Cursed Roots
Hosted by DuskAwakening
part 4
In Your Nightmares (Poppy Playtime) - Glitch Whisper
Cursed Roots“NO! I won’t let you!” Arkani roars, snatching her claws back with violent force. Flora explodes from her spot, painting the deathbed into a garden of color. Arkani pants, swallowing feverishly.
A cough shatters the dreaded chill in between her heavy breathing.
Monster begins to wail, relief at the forefront of her cry.
Arkani cracks an eye open.
Bright, curious eyes look back.
She knew it would happen, the writing was on the walls, and yet. Yet…
Arkani heaves herself over to an empty pot and hurls.
She feels sick to her stomach.
“You can’t hold me back for much longer.”
Arkani cries.
“I will devour them.”
It takes some time before she lets go of the pot. She wobbles back to the cave, flopping and stumbling into the bed. Exhaustion pulls her into a dreamless sleep.
The victory over death is hollow to her.
When she wakes, rare food is shoved into her face. Word of what happened spread like wildfire overnight.
And then, she’s put to work.
As Arkani carries yet another bucket out to the overflowing stream, a little hand grabs her leg. The bucket falls with a yelp of alarm, only to be dragged into the foliage with a claw pressed against her mouth.
“Shh!! You want them to hear you?” Monster’s grinning mischievously, releasing Arkani so that she can reposition herself, hidden from the clan by tall ferns and long grass. “I figured you needed a break.” She’s… a bit loud for what she’s trying to achieve. “Scion of the Roots, more like Rambra of the Grunt Work, am I right?”
Arkani chuckles. “Thank you. I needed that.”
They sit together in a nook by the quarry wall. Arkani shares the spiced honey with her, taking turns sipping from the thimble-sized cup it came in, although the acorns are off limits. She still hasn’t had the appetite after everything.
“I'm sorry I didn't warn you,” Monster speaks, her little paws shifting. “That they wouldn't be happy, I mean. It's not just about you, it's…” Monster takes a moment to choose her words. “At First Rain, I predict the Dead Year - the winter. Whether the Roots are happy, if we'll have good luck, if our stores will last, you know? But at the last festival before the bluebells stopped growing, I… I misread the signs. We were going to be fine, I said. We'd have to ration, but we wouldn't starve.”
A costly mistake.
The silence that follows her words is heavy, filled with things she can't seem to say. “Mum had a clutch back then.”
Arkani only nods. She understands. She wants to say something, but the words elude her. Much like everything about her.
Monster looks across at Arkani, expression sad. There’s something else between her, empathy, acknowledgement, the understanding that she really isn't okay.
“About Jas…” Monster whispers. “I don’t know what happened, or what you saw, but… you should know that you’re not on your own. You can talk to me.”
Arkani rubs the edge of the cup.
“I’m always on the cusp of remembering it all, and then it’s torn away.” She says after a moment. Arkani bites her lip, her features melting into sorrow. “All I have is a fragment of the truth. But it’s…” Arkani shivers. “I’m terrified of it. I feel like I’ve doomed us all.”
“Something lurks in the shadows, on the verge of breaking through.” Shame washes over her. “He’s… so repulsive, so sinister, that I… I wished for Jas to die. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put him out of his misery, even knowing that if he got his claws on him, he’d suffer far more than the sickness that was over him. I wished that the sickness would’ve taken him. That way, when he’s free, he won’t have to witness the horrors that follow because the Roots cannot save any of you from him.” She scratches at the mud. “How could I think something so twisted? So evil? Am I the real monster?” Arkani sighs, knowing very well it isn’t true. At least, not fully.
“I’m not a hero. Not a savior either. Just a lost soul. Someone fated to die in the end.” Arkani exhales slowly. “I don’t want to live like this.”
Then don’t.
“I won’t.”
“I don’t want the same to happen to you. To this clan.”
Monster is silent for a long time. “It’s happening, isn’t it?” She whispers. “I can feel it. It’s coming to the end. And… and I… I wish I knew why.”
Arkani buries her head into her paws, nodding silently.
“I do too.”
The moment is interrupted by a fern being pulled aside. “There you are. The paint is ready. It's time to add you to the wall.”
Arkani follows the Painter to the wall. Black paint is scratched into the wall.
Arkani takes the paint given to her.
She couldn’t make the call then.
But now…
Arkani begins painting.
She’s made up her mind.
And when she’s done, she clenches her jaw.
An auburn pelted wolf with murky highlights is biting into a grey dragon with various parts holding it together, red eyes bearing down on the wolf. The wolf and dragon coil together in a vicious death match.
She won’t waver this time.
She won’t.
It’s time to fight back.
Something is wrong with Jas.
In the sight of the clan, he’s spirited, alive, chatty. But when there aren’t any eyes on him, panic and fear override his life. Arkani feels guilty. She feels that her anxiety and fear have leaked into him.
Arkani wakes in the haze of night, riddled with the feeling that something is wrong. It’s different from the one that constantly looms over her shoulder.
Arkani gets up, padding softly in the dark to find the source of her new worry. A drizzle has begun.
She quickly finds the reason.
In the middle of the river sits Jas.
Her heart breaks silently at the sight.
“It's okay,” Jas speaks softly, acknowledging Arkani without looking up. “I wanted to be alone, but you're different.”
She approaches slowly. He won't look at her. Arkani can’t blame him; she doesn’t want to look at him, the weight of everything on her back. Come to think of it, Jas hasn’t looked at her since then.
“I shouldn't be here.” The Tundra whispers. “They already grieved for me. They were ready to let me go.” There's a lengthy pause. “I can't hurt them like this.” Jas breathes. “By not being … me. I can't let them grieve for who they think I should be. You get that, don't you? You, of all dragons.”
“I do,” Arkani replies, sitting on the bank, staring out into the forest beyond. “Monster, and now the others, think of me as a savior. That I am a blessing. The more that I see, the more that I remember, I’m… none of those things. I wish I could be like Monster, so full of hope and kind words. But, I’m just a curse on your lands. A husk with monsters just waiting for me to fall. I may just be the end. A fate worse than death.”
A weak smile forms on her face.
“I told myself that I’d fight back. That I’ve changed. But I’m terrified. I’m terrified of the horrors that remain unknown to me, but all too ingrained in my bones.” Arkani looks at Jas, her voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can stop him.” Arkani begins to choke on her words as the tears begin to come on again. “Please… go back to your family.” There’s urgency in her words. “Before we run out of time. I… I’ll think of something. I have to.”
...
“Midnight comes, the air turns cold
Close your eyes and rest your bones,”
Shadows unfurl at the brokenhearted. At a soul on the verge of collapse.
“Little creatures haunt your dreams,
Sleep is never what it seems.”
A figure steps out from the depths, a ready and wicked smile stretched across his face.
“Perfect.”
He cracks his neck back, the snap a dreadful noise. The slime from his mouth sinks to the earth, hungry, hissing as it eats away at the grime.
“In the shadows of your room, find them smiling back at you.
Critters come when you’re least prepared,
But as long as you sleep, you’ll never be scared.”
He takes in a deep breath. Tasting the sickly scent in the air.
“Until the nightmares make their way inside your head,
and take you from your bed,
and make you one of them.”
“Let us begin.” His eyes flash as he throws his arms out wide. Shadows rise from his claws, seeping into the dirt, searching. Hunting.
“Critters crawling everywhere,
Heed those falling into despair,
It’s a nightmare,
Come on out, they want to play.
All those screams will fade away.
In your nightmares.”
Ghostly claws wrench their way to the surface. Shadows pull them together in an uneven mess, bones popping in place in twisted ways. Gutteral screeches ignite in their lungs, their rotted and infected lungs. Bone-cased wings burst out of their backs, dripping with imperfect ichor.
Last edited on May 08, 2026 16:33:21 by ZeplenKing
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[center][size=5][b]Arkani[/b][/size]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/qnc/3461646/1#post_3461646]Cursed Roots[/url]
Hosted by DuskAwakening
part 5
Nightmare by Design - Tryhardninja[/center]
[hidden title="Cursed Roots"]
“I know,” Jas whispers, their matted fur swirling in the current. “I know that, deep down. I belong here, just like I always have.” Their words hang heavy. “Thank you… for helping me to see that. You’re everything the clan needs,” Jas says softly, not bitterly, but not hopefully. “And you’ll suffer for it, like everyone else has. You can’t carry the weight of the world without a bit of back strain, hey?” A rueful smile. “Good luck, okay?”
Arkani’s eyes widen, jumping to her paws. “No no no! Did you not hear me?! I need you!” Her voice is high-pitched, scared, desperate. “I need you ali-”
A multitude of spine-tingling roars lift from further within. Their cries shake the forest awake with fear. Birds flee with utter terror, awoken dreadfully so.
“No…” She whispers, her eyes darting around. “Jas! [i]Run[/i]. You need to run!”
“Oh, but it’s [i]far[/i] too late for that.” A sickening voice rasps. The pungent scent of death oozes and infects the air.
[i]“In our twisted factory,
You are the spare part we need,”[/i]
In an instant, he appears in front of Jas, the Guardian towering over the Tundra with a grin so sinister. Terror grips Arkani as her worst fears come to light.
[i]“You don’t know what we’ve been through,
Awful fate we didn’t choose,”[/i]
[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/98714866][img alt=""]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/dressing-room/scry?sdid=4953722&skin=60550&apparel=37397,59938,42680,42697&xt=dressing.png[/img][/url][/center]
“No!” Arkani screams, her body springing into a sprint, arms extended to snatch him even though she’s so far away.
[i]Chomp![/i]
Jas’s body falls into the water, the water turning red.
Arkani comes to a shocked halt. “JAS!” Arkani roars, howling.
[i]“It’s a blueprint for fear, a dream left rotting (rotting),
There’s a little of me in everybody (body)”[/i]
A black beam of light rockets from his body into the sky. Bloody claws rip through the dark light. Two heads emerge, snapping their crooked jaws into place. Plagued eyes bubbling with infection pulse under the darkness.
[i]“Oh, whoa, whoa, there’s nowhere left to hide,
The assembly line keeps on churning until we are one,”[/i]
[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/94012649][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/940127/94012649_350.png[/img][/url][/center]
[i]“Nightmare by design,”[/i]
The Aberration throws his heads back and laughs and laughs. Cold, disgusting, spine-chilling.
Sickness churns in Arkani’s stomach, with nowhere to expel it.
She remembers.
She [i]remembers[/i].
“Finally! I am free!” The Aberration extends his claws, peering into the water to see his reflection. “What an interesting development.” His eyes fall onto Arkani as she stands there trembling. His heads smirk, pleased to find her in delicious despair. “Did you really think you could keep me contained in that frail mind of yours?”
He shakes his body, testing his limbs.
“Well, in any case,” He shrugs his shoulders back. “Thanks for freeing me. I’ll be sure to [i]personally[/i] say hello soon enough.” His wings spread out. “For now, though, enjoy your guests. I’m sure they’re quite ravenous.” The Aberration cackles as he shoots off into the night, along with the Guardian who brought him out.
Rotting, thrown-together corpses of dragons burst through the treeline on the opposite side of the river.
Arkani doesn’t even get a chance to mourn. She picks up Jas’s lifeless body, tossing it onto her shoulder and bolts to the shoreline.
The monsters howl and begin their pursuit.
Arkani throws Jas’s body as far as she can, hoping it stays out of reach of their despicable claws. She whips around, every fiber in her being wanting to run away.
Arkani bares her teeth with a hiss, digging her claws into the mud.
“You’ll pay for this, Sullivan!” She roars, pushing off as the infected reach her.
She brings her claws down on one, cleaving it part way. It gurgles, stumbling back. Arkani slaps it away with her tail before it can retaliate, slashing another.
They mob her, biting, clawing, infecting her with their evil. Arkani fights them bit by bit, the adrenaline keeping it at bay.
Blood drips down her shoulders, her sides, every nook and cranny. The bright substance turns darker and darker by the second. Arkani falls to the ground, exhaustion and pain rippling through her system. The color of her wings darkens, marking her forever, a reminder of her failure.
The necklace falls from her grasp.
The necklace!
With a shaking breath, she clasps it with her jaws. She bites into the vial, swallowing the contents as the world grows hazy.
This is it.
Her only hope.
No more chances.
…
A mournful, catastrophic howl.
Arkani groans as pain thunders through her body. Her eyes flutter open, squinting at the sunlight dappling her cold body.
She is alive.
Jas… Jas is not.
Arkani twitches, pulling herself together. She [i]has[/i] to.
Her bloodstained form lumbers forward.
It was Monster who found the headless corpse.
“I’m… sorry…” Arkani rasps as she collapses through the ferns. “I… failed…”
The blood loss was too great for her to stay conscious for much longer.
[i]You didn't want to die.[/i]
Sun lights a dazzling waterfall, painting the world in beautiful splendor.
Age wastes her bones, taking her slowly, cruelly, ebbing her away with every passing season. It's stealing the remnants of who she once was.
Her body is rooted down, but her soul wanders, searching for something she doesn't understand.
It's been looking for a long, long time.
Her mind is fading.
The name that once was hers, resting on the tip of her tongue, no longer belongs to her. She used to have a reflection, but now she sees nothing but leaves. Nothing but dust. A family, but no recognition of the shape of their faces.
[i]You didn’t have to die.[/i]
There they are, trapped in flowing sap and frozen in amber. Trapped in the leaves, bound like her. They're caught by the stone of a cave wall, held static by love and memory and grief. Imprisoned by the desperate desire not to let them go.
Rooted to the ground.
The cursed roots.
It's compulsion that drives her to dig. It's warm, hot, even, and it steams and hisses and heaves like the heart of a living thing. She feels it start to writhe, but she doesn't stop. Down, down, down until blood bursts from the soil, spilling in pools around her long-dead feet.
What a feeling. What joy.
It pours from the ground in a beautiful hot spring, bathing her in red life. It bursts from the ground, so deeply rich and vibrant. She lowers her head and begins to drink. Filling her stomach with something not hers.
But the hunger never wanes.
The world screams, exploding in a hurricane of rage. She’s stolen something, taken it, twisted it, and made it hers, and it claws into her and pulls her back to herself.
Everything is rioting, breaking, because she’s taking it away and they're going to be [i]free -
- Forget me, please, please forget me -
Wash them away, wash them away, wash them off the walls -
- Tell them it's okay -
Get out of here and take it with you!
- That they shouldn't stand in stagnant water -
I think you'd better run.[/i]
And she’s running. Just like at the start of this nightmare.
Arkani wakes with a gasp, cold sweat running down her back. She’s lying in her hammock, bandages wrapped around her wounds. The smell of blood lingers in the air, lingers in her mouth.
She assumes Monster tended to her while she passed out. She’s sure that it shocked them when she came out of the bushes like that. Almost dead.
Changed.[/hidden]
Cursed Roots“I know,” Jas whispers, their matted fur swirling in the current. “I know that, deep down. I belong here, just like I always have.” Their words hang heavy. “Thank you… for helping me to see that. You’re everything the clan needs,” Jas says softly, not bitterly, but not hopefully. “And you’ll suffer for it, like everyone else has. You can’t carry the weight of the world without a bit of back strain, hey?” A rueful smile. “Good luck, okay?”
Arkani’s eyes widen, jumping to her paws. “No no no! Did you not hear me?! I need you!” Her voice is high-pitched, scared, desperate. “I need you ali-”
A multitude of spine-tingling roars lift from further within. Their cries shake the forest awake with fear. Birds flee with utter terror, awoken dreadfully so.
“No…” She whispers, her eyes darting around. “Jas! Run. You need to run!”
“Oh, but it’s far too late for that.” A sickening voice rasps. The pungent scent of death oozes and infects the air.
“In our twisted factory,
You are the spare part we need,”
In an instant, he appears in front of Jas, the Guardian towering over the Tundra with a grin so sinister. Terror grips Arkani as her worst fears come to light.
“You don’t know what we’ve been through,
Awful fate we didn’t choose,”
“No!” Arkani screams, her body springing into a sprint, arms extended to snatch him even though she’s so far away.
Chomp!
Jas’s body falls into the water, the water turning red.
Arkani comes to a shocked halt. “JAS!” Arkani roars, howling.
“It’s a blueprint for fear, a dream left rotting (rotting),
There’s a little of me in everybody (body)”
A black beam of light rockets from his body into the sky. Bloody claws rip through the dark light. Two heads emerge, snapping their crooked jaws into place. Plagued eyes bubbling with infection pulse under the darkness.
“Oh, whoa, whoa, there’s nowhere left to hide,
The assembly line keeps on churning until we are one,”
“Nightmare by design,”
The Aberration throws his heads back and laughs and laughs. Cold, disgusting, spine-chilling.
Sickness churns in Arkani’s stomach, with nowhere to expel it.
She remembers.
She remembers.
“Finally! I am free!” The Aberration extends his claws, peering into the water to see his reflection. “What an interesting development.” His eyes fall onto Arkani as she stands there trembling. His heads smirk, pleased to find her in delicious despair. “Did you really think you could keep me contained in that frail mind of yours?”
He shakes his body, testing his limbs.
“Well, in any case,” He shrugs his shoulders back. “Thanks for freeing me. I’ll be sure to personally say hello soon enough.” His wings spread out. “For now, though, enjoy your guests. I’m sure they’re quite ravenous.” The Aberration cackles as he shoots off into the night, along with the Guardian who brought him out.
Rotting, thrown-together corpses of dragons burst through the treeline on the opposite side of the river.
Arkani doesn’t even get a chance to mourn. She picks up Jas’s lifeless body, tossing it onto her shoulder and bolts to the shoreline.
The monsters howl and begin their pursuit.
Arkani throws Jas’s body as far as she can, hoping it stays out of reach of their despicable claws. She whips around, every fiber in her being wanting to run away.
Arkani bares her teeth with a hiss, digging her claws into the mud.
“You’ll pay for this, Sullivan!” She roars, pushing off as the infected reach her.
She brings her claws down on one, cleaving it part way. It gurgles, stumbling back. Arkani slaps it away with her tail before it can retaliate, slashing another.
They mob her, biting, clawing, infecting her with their evil. Arkani fights them bit by bit, the adrenaline keeping it at bay.
Blood drips down her shoulders, her sides, every nook and cranny. The bright substance turns darker and darker by the second. Arkani falls to the ground, exhaustion and pain rippling through her system. The color of her wings darkens, marking her forever, a reminder of her failure.
The necklace falls from her grasp.
The necklace!
With a shaking breath, she clasps it with her jaws. She bites into the vial, swallowing the contents as the world grows hazy.
This is it.
Her only hope.
No more chances.
…
A mournful, catastrophic howl.
Arkani groans as pain thunders through her body. Her eyes flutter open, squinting at the sunlight dappling her cold body.
She is alive.
Jas… Jas is not.
Arkani twitches, pulling herself together. She has to.
Her bloodstained form lumbers forward.
It was Monster who found the headless corpse.
“I’m… sorry…” Arkani rasps as she collapses through the ferns. “I… failed…”
The blood loss was too great for her to stay conscious for much longer.
You didn't want to die.
Sun lights a dazzling waterfall, painting the world in beautiful splendor.
Age wastes her bones, taking her slowly, cruelly, ebbing her away with every passing season. It's stealing the remnants of who she once was.
Her body is rooted down, but her soul wanders, searching for something she doesn't understand.
It's been looking for a long, long time.
Her mind is fading.
The name that once was hers, resting on the tip of her tongue, no longer belongs to her. She used to have a reflection, but now she sees nothing but leaves. Nothing but dust. A family, but no recognition of the shape of their faces.
You didn’t have to die.
There they are, trapped in flowing sap and frozen in amber. Trapped in the leaves, bound like her. They're caught by the stone of a cave wall, held static by love and memory and grief. Imprisoned by the desperate desire not to let them go.
Rooted to the ground.
The cursed roots.
It's compulsion that drives her to dig. It's warm, hot, even, and it steams and hisses and heaves like the heart of a living thing. She feels it start to writhe, but she doesn't stop. Down, down, down until blood bursts from the soil, spilling in pools around her long-dead feet.
What a feeling. What joy.
It pours from the ground in a beautiful hot spring, bathing her in red life. It bursts from the ground, so deeply rich and vibrant. She lowers her head and begins to drink. Filling her stomach with something not hers.
But the hunger never wanes.
The world screams, exploding in a hurricane of rage. She’s stolen something, taken it, twisted it, and made it hers, and it claws into her and pulls her back to herself.
Everything is rioting, breaking, because she’s taking it away and they're going to be free -
- Forget me, please, please forget me -
Wash them away, wash them away, wash them off the walls -
- Tell them it's okay -
Get out of here and take it with you!
- That they shouldn't stand in stagnant water -
I think you'd better run.
And she’s running. Just like at the start of this nightmare.
Arkani wakes with a gasp, cold sweat running down her back. She’s lying in her hammock, bandages wrapped around her wounds. The smell of blood lingers in the air, lingers in her mouth.
She assumes Monster tended to her while she passed out. She’s sure that it shocked them when she came out of the bushes like that. Almost dead.
Changed.
Last edited on May 08, 2026 16:34:10 by ZeplenKing
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[center][size=5][b]Arkani[/b][/size]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/qnc/3461646/1#post_3461646]Cursed Roots[/url]
Hosted by DuskAwakening
part 6[/center]
[hidden title="Cursed Roots"]
Arkani bites the inside of her cheek as she stumbles out of bed.
She isn’t ready to see them.
The sad, horrible looks that her presence has brought on.
She isn’t ready to tell them.
That an evil has been brought into this world. That she failed in keeping him locked away in the darkest corners of her mind. That he is going to devour every soul he can find. That he will use their corpses to mutilate their loved ones. Poison everything that he touches.
All to find and consume the one he craves.
This wasn’t Sullivan.
[i]She[/i] did this. [i]She[/i] brought death to this place, reckless and selfish, and Jas is dead because of her.
She can blame the sickness all she wants, push responsibility onto something outside her control, something she’s been fighting for as long as she’s been alive. She can face the clan and say “[i]it wasn’t me, it was them, it was them[/i]”, but the lie would fall bitter on her tongue.
Could she have stopped it if she’d remembered?
Arkani’s guilt falls heavily over Jas’ limp form.
[i]That’s right…[/i]
Arkani looks up into the sky.
[i]It wasn’t Sullivan.
It was me.[/i]
Arkani is asked to repaint their picture on the wall, to conduct the last prayers, to light the votives, and to sing for the dead. She’s expected to console, to advise, to understand; expected to be something she’s [i]not[/i].
They don't ask her to hold vigil; they expect it.
Arkani joins Monster in the vibrant grove, alone and silent as the evening folds into darkness, the atmosphere heavy.
She can’t say anything.
Swallowing her tears, the lump in her throat.
It’s all over, isn’t it?
“It's my fault.” Monster admits into the thick awful silence, taking the words from Arknai’s mouth. “I lied to them all. I'm not a Seer.” The words pour out of her mouth, guilt spurring [i]her[/i] on. A sickening wellspring of words that bubble forth.
“That festival… That Rain… I got so used to pretending. To being something that I'm not. It was so easy to just… to just… say what I needed to say, and…” She closes her eyes, sucking the heavy air into her lungs. “Nothing ever changes here. It rains in the Living Year and snows in the Dead. The bluebells die at First Rain and push back up for Second. Berries grow in the warm rain and apples come in with the cold. I said what everyone has [i]always[/i] said: we'll be okay.”
“And that year… that year…” The leaves don’t provide any answers, nor the Roots; this moment is as lonely as an empty cave and a pile of old bones. “I was gonna be a big sister. I was gonna teach them how to pick blackberries, and how to spice honey, and how to mix really [i]bright[/i] paint. I was going to let them spit up on my stupid paintings and I wouldn't have gotten mad, I [i]wouldn't[/i] have, but mum just laughed and said they were gonna drive me up the wall.”
“The rain, it was so heavy, [i]so heavy[/i], and the river… the river…” She's trembling, shaking like a leaf. “I've felt nothing in this forest my whole life. I've never been a Seer. But when I heard you in the woods, I [i]felt[/i] it. You fell in the bluebells, and I felt something I've never felt before. [i]Just[/i] in time for Second Rain. And you fixed it, you fixed it [i]all[/i], like I was supposed to. Like I never could. You fixed Jas… and the Roots took them away.”
She's coming to a conclusion, and it’s churning Arkani’s stomach, sickening her to no end.
“They're not a god, but [i]you[/i] are.”
Arkani can’t believe what she’s hearing.
“I’m not… do you even hear yourself?! I didn’t [i]fix[/i] Jas! All I’ve done is ruin your lives!” Venom pours out of her words as she retorts. “It wasn’t [i]my[/i] power that brought Jas back. But it [i]is[/i] my fault… my fault that he’s… dead.” Arkani paws at the ground. “I’m sorry…”
Monster raises her frills a little - not with anger or blame, but tentative friendship. “Jas is dead,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “But Jas… Jas was already dead. I’ve been waiting to say goodbye for so long, that I-”
She stops herself, taking a shaky breath. “They’re dead because the Roots took them away. Before you came, and after you brought them back. But you’re [i]different[/i], don’t you see? You can [i]help[/i].”
…
After everything, she’s still dreaming. And she’s relieved.
There’s still time.
She’d nearly forgotten that she was here on behalf of someone else. Everything has gone wrong in ways she never could have imagined.
There is still more to this nightmare.
Her portrait is still on the wall, and the clan still thinks that she’s their Scion.
After Jas has been seen off, Monster doesn't get up. She curls herself into a rocky and damp corner of the cave and oversleeps, wakes up, and then sleeps some more.
The clan won't leave Arkani alone, won't give her the time she needs to help her, talk to her, or process things herself. She’s put straight back to work. Jas’ funeral has depleted the supplies for Second Rain. She swears she can still see him. Still hear his voice whispering cruel words underneath her scales.
She’s collecting water, [i]again…[/i]
“Wait.”
This time, it's the Ascendant who pulls her from her task. A dragon she dreads the thought of talking to. He's added a new streak of paint to his cyan hide. A small flower drooping from a green stem: a bluebell. It hurts to look at him.
“I'm not naïve.” He's staring into the river, his reflection caught in the rippling current. “I know you're the reason Jas is gone.” His words cut deep, sinking in and breaking her.
[i]“That’s right…”[/i] Slick words whisper into Arkani’s ears.
“Is there any point in honeyed words? I know that you spoke to Monster during the vigil. I need to know what you said. Please … for the sake of my family.”
Shadows begin to swirl around her feet, dance on the tip of her tongue. The wind picks up as she falls and falls, gusting in response. The world tilts on its side, a harsh chill cutting through static.
[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/fYGcLwmG/sketch-1771912333355.png[/img][/center]
“It’s all my fault.” The words are dry on her tongue. Arkani gives a short chuckle. “I can hear them. They blame me for their deaths.” She nods, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. “They’re right. They’re [i]always[/i] right.”
“They told me to run. But I stayed. They said it was a bad omen. We were blind.” Arkani throws her arms wide with a cackle. “And here we are! At the beginning of the end!”
Eyes open in the wake of her shadows.
Her words turn into a snarl, gazing deep into the depths of the abyss that gazes back. “If only I had remembered sooner. If only I knew! I would’ve never have come to that blasted cave!” The words are building, boiling into a yell.
“I couldn’t stop them! I couldn’t stop them from coming through into this world! I was too weak! I [i]am[/i] too weak!”
[i]Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. [/i]
The shadows chant, howling her despair.
“And now… he’s going to prey on all of us, toying with our wills until we snap and become his vessels.”
They surround her, drowning her tears with their rich ink, flooding her system. She pulls mouthfuls of ink from her lungs, from her skin, trying to scrub it off of her. Remove any connection to the one who dealt the killing blow. But the more she pulls, the more it spreads like wildfire and the thicker it becomes.
The shadows switch tunes, their eyes hungry.
[i]Strong! Strong! We will make you strong! Strong! Strong! We will make you strong! Strong! Strong! We will make you strong![/i]
Fire courses through Arkani’s veins. This isn’t like the Guardian’s shadows. These are [i]hers[/i]. Her powers. Her weapons. Hers.
[i]Weak no more! Strong as one![/i]
“All it takes is one…”
Her eyes widen.
“The bodies…!”
Arkani makes a "this could work" motion at the Ascendant before darting off to where Jas’s body lies.
They might be angry at her for what she’s about to do. They just sent Jas off. Just held the funeral. Spent their precious resources on it.
She has no way of knowing.
But it is a chance.
A chance to make things right.
…
Meanwhile, outside of the dream:
Rain falls in droves, drowning the landscape in its sorrow.
Under the depths of thick mud, wispy shadows rise from the overgrown forest floor.
A small bone twitches.
[/hidden]
Cursed RootsArkani bites the inside of her cheek as she stumbles out of bed.
She isn’t ready to see them.
The sad, horrible looks that her presence has brought on.
She isn’t ready to tell them.
That an evil has been brought into this world. That she failed in keeping him locked away in the darkest corners of her mind. That he is going to devour every soul he can find. That he will use their corpses to mutilate their loved ones. Poison everything that he touches.
All to find and consume the one he craves.
This wasn’t Sullivan.
She did this. She brought death to this place, reckless and selfish, and Jas is dead because of her.
She can blame the sickness all she wants, push responsibility onto something outside her control, something she’s been fighting for as long as she’s been alive. She can face the clan and say “it wasn’t me, it was them, it was them”, but the lie would fall bitter on her tongue.
Could she have stopped it if she’d remembered?
Arkani’s guilt falls heavily over Jas’ limp form.
That’s right…
Arkani looks up into the sky.
It wasn’t Sullivan.
It was me.
Arkani is asked to repaint their picture on the wall, to conduct the last prayers, to light the votives, and to sing for the dead. She’s expected to console, to advise, to understand; expected to be something she’s not.
They don't ask her to hold vigil; they expect it.
Arkani joins Monster in the vibrant grove, alone and silent as the evening folds into darkness, the atmosphere heavy.
She can’t say anything.
Swallowing her tears, the lump in her throat.
It’s all over, isn’t it?
“It's my fault.” Monster admits into the thick awful silence, taking the words from Arknai’s mouth. “I lied to them all. I'm not a Seer.” The words pour out of her mouth, guilt spurring her on. A sickening wellspring of words that bubble forth.
“That festival… That Rain… I got so used to pretending. To being something that I'm not. It was so easy to just… to just… say what I needed to say, and…” She closes her eyes, sucking the heavy air into her lungs. “Nothing ever changes here. It rains in the Living Year and snows in the Dead. The bluebells die at First Rain and push back up for Second. Berries grow in the warm rain and apples come in with the cold. I said what everyone has always said: we'll be okay.”
“And that year… that year…” The leaves don’t provide any answers, nor the Roots; this moment is as lonely as an empty cave and a pile of old bones. “I was gonna be a big sister. I was gonna teach them how to pick blackberries, and how to spice honey, and how to mix really bright paint. I was going to let them spit up on my stupid paintings and I wouldn't have gotten mad, I wouldn't have, but mum just laughed and said they were gonna drive me up the wall.”
“The rain, it was so heavy, so heavy, and the river… the river…” She's trembling, shaking like a leaf. “I've felt nothing in this forest my whole life. I've never been a Seer. But when I heard you in the woods, I felt it. You fell in the bluebells, and I felt something I've never felt before. Just in time for Second Rain. And you fixed it, you fixed it all, like I was supposed to. Like I never could. You fixed Jas… and the Roots took them away.”
She's coming to a conclusion, and it’s churning Arkani’s stomach, sickening her to no end.
“They're not a god, but you are.”
Arkani can’t believe what she’s hearing.
“I’m not… do you even hear yourself?! I didn’t fix Jas! All I’ve done is ruin your lives!” Venom pours out of her words as she retorts. “It wasn’t my power that brought Jas back. But it is my fault… my fault that he’s… dead.” Arkani paws at the ground. “I’m sorry…”
Monster raises her frills a little - not with anger or blame, but tentative friendship. “Jas is dead,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “But Jas… Jas was already dead. I’ve been waiting to say goodbye for so long, that I-”
She stops herself, taking a shaky breath. “They’re dead because the Roots took them away. Before you came, and after you brought them back. But you’re different, don’t you see? You can help.”
…
After everything, she’s still dreaming. And she’s relieved.
There’s still time.
She’d nearly forgotten that she was here on behalf of someone else. Everything has gone wrong in ways she never could have imagined.
There is still more to this nightmare.
Her portrait is still on the wall, and the clan still thinks that she’s their Scion.
After Jas has been seen off, Monster doesn't get up. She curls herself into a rocky and damp corner of the cave and oversleeps, wakes up, and then sleeps some more.
The clan won't leave Arkani alone, won't give her the time she needs to help her, talk to her, or process things herself. She’s put straight back to work. Jas’ funeral has depleted the supplies for Second Rain. She swears she can still see him. Still hear his voice whispering cruel words underneath her scales.
She’s collecting water, again…
“Wait.”
This time, it's the Ascendant who pulls her from her task. A dragon she dreads the thought of talking to. He's added a new streak of paint to his cyan hide. A small flower drooping from a green stem: a bluebell. It hurts to look at him.
“I'm not naïve.” He's staring into the river, his reflection caught in the rippling current. “I know you're the reason Jas is gone.” His words cut deep, sinking in and breaking her.
“That’s right…” Slick words whisper into Arkani’s ears.
“Is there any point in honeyed words? I know that you spoke to Monster during the vigil. I need to know what you said. Please … for the sake of my family.”
Shadows begin to swirl around her feet, dance on the tip of her tongue. The wind picks up as she falls and falls, gusting in response. The world tilts on its side, a harsh chill cutting through static.
“It’s all my fault.” The words are dry on her tongue. Arkani gives a short chuckle. “I can hear them. They blame me for their deaths.” She nods, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. “They’re right. They’re always right.”
“They told me to run. But I stayed. They said it was a bad omen. We were blind.” Arkani throws her arms wide with a cackle. “And here we are! At the beginning of the end!”
Eyes open in the wake of her shadows.
Her words turn into a snarl, gazing deep into the depths of the abyss that gazes back. “If only I had remembered sooner. If only I knew! I would’ve never have come to that blasted cave!” The words are building, boiling into a yell.
“I couldn’t stop them! I couldn’t stop them from coming through into this world! I was too weak! I am too weak!”
Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak.
The shadows chant, howling her despair.
“And now… he’s going to prey on all of us, toying with our wills until we snap and become his vessels.”
They surround her, drowning her tears with their rich ink, flooding her system. She pulls mouthfuls of ink from her lungs, from her skin, trying to scrub it off of her. Remove any connection to the one who dealt the killing blow. But the more she pulls, the more it spreads like wildfire and the thicker it becomes.
The shadows switch tunes, their eyes hungry.
Strong! Strong! We will make you strong! Strong! Strong! We will make you strong! Strong! Strong! We will make you strong!
Fire courses through Arkani’s veins. This isn’t like the Guardian’s shadows. These are hers. Her powers. Her weapons. Hers.
Weak no more! Strong as one!
“All it takes is one…”
Her eyes widen.
“The bodies…!”
Arkani makes a "this could work" motion at the Ascendant before darting off to where Jas’s body lies.
They might be angry at her for what she’s about to do. They just sent Jas off. Just held the funeral. Spent their precious resources on it.
She has no way of knowing.
But it is a chance.
A chance to make things right.
…
Meanwhile, outside of the dream:
Rain falls in droves, drowning the landscape in its sorrow.
Under the depths of thick mud, wispy shadows rise from the overgrown forest floor.
A small bone twitches.
Last edited on May 08, 2026 16:26:24 by ZeplenKing
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Cursed RootsArkani skids to a halt, gasping for air.
Jas’ body is already rotting, melting into the watery soil of the hungry grove. Roots have pushed up through the surface, snaking soft white worms across their matted fur. Like any body left out in the rain, they’ve started to stink.
The Ascendant follows Arkani to witness the heresy, pelting through the forest on her heels. He won’t let her do anything to Jas, he won’t, and yet - there is a chance, with this power, that she can do something right.
Yeah right, whispers the voice in the back of her head. Can’t do anything right.
Arkani shuts her eyes with a snort, shaking off the voices in her head.
She steps closer to Jas’s decaying corpse. Shadows hiss at her approach, baring their fangs. A crooked smile plays on her lips.
Let us help you.
Her hunch was right.
Make it right.
“You should’ve killed me when you had the chance, Sullivan.” Arkani lifts her arms, spreading her claws over the body. “Oh, but that’s right, you’ve always been a cautious fellow, huh?” She chuckles. And with a snarl, “I will repay you this hell a thousand times over.”
Her magic activates and her shadows invade, scratching, tearing at the ichor that boils in Jas’s veins.
Jas spits up ichor-tainted blood.
The severed head - eaten by Sullivan’s attendant - has woven itself back onto the neck out of the torn flesh, the shadows mending and sewing muscle. The body sputters and coughs, just like the first time she plunged her claws into it and dragged Jas back from the dead, and it’s breathing- but it’s not Jas. She knows it’s not their Jas, that’s why she’s here -
Magic weaves into the body, suppressing the thing inside -
A body tackles her to the ground with a thud, canceling her only way of suppressing him.
“Wha-?” Arkani gasps through the weight pressing down on her.
The Ascendant wasn’t the only one who followed her.
Claws sink into the back of her skull, fresh blood welling to the surface. Arkani cries out, mud filling her mouth.
“Our history…” The Ascendant whispers, gripping the ground, glaring down at Arkani. “Our heritage. You don't understand us, stranger. That cave is everything we are, everything we've always been. You honour your dead, don't you?” He growls, his whiskers standing on end. He takes a deep breath, reaching a conclusion in his mind.
“You don’t understand!” Arkani howls. “I need to-”
“Thank you, little one. It’s nice to know that my family still speaks, even if they won’t speak to me.”
He’s soothed himself in an infinitely frustrating way; he turns, making a quick little nod at the Fae holding Arkani down.
“W-Wait!” Arkani cries, clawing at Zena’s grip, but is too small, too out of reach.
They drag her, ignoring her pleas.
The main cave is empty of every dragon but the Ascendant. He stands in front of her painting, his tattered wings folded back, his eyes taking in her artwork.
“I don't know what you did to Jas,” he speaks softly, calmly, a stark contrast to the situation she’s in. “But it wasn't done by the Roots. If they possessed the power to save us, don't you think they would have done it before? Wouldn't they have saved the hatchlings? Wouldn't they have saved my wife?” His eyes flash.
“What makes you special? What makes you more worthy than my clan, my family?” He presses a claw against the painting, and her body reacts without warning. Arkani surges forward in a blind panic, a deep terror flooding out common sense. Zena slams her head into the ground once more, adjusting her grip harder.
Paint pools onto the floor where blood should be, sickly and yellow, pustulent and bright.
“Listen to me!” Arkani chokes through a mouthful of muddy paint. “Please!”
He drags his claws down the paint on the wall, tearing something inside her, pulling at the fragile threads of her soul. She didn't want to die.
You didn't want to be forgotten.
“We don't want you here. We don't need you here,” he slashes through her painting again, peeling away the pigment and leaving a brutal scar on the wall. “We don't want you in our history, tainting our MEMORIES!”
They're going to kill her.
“If you kill me, if you take me from the wall-” Arkani sputters, clenching an eye shut to block the pain. “I won’t be able to stop him!”
They're going to kill her and her body is writhing and howling and screaming and realising why she didn't run, why she couldn't leave it all behind -
You were loved, once. You were cherished, once. Who wouldn't give anything to have that again?
A family.
“Sullivan’s form isn’t complete!” Her words echo through the cave.
That’s right, Jas’s body wouldn’t be sinking into the mud if Sullivan was really here. It would’ve been like the hybridized corpses she fought and nearly died to. That’s his call sign.
She doesn’t quite understand his actions, but she knows this: Sullivan isn’t the type to dive headfirst into battle.
He’d spend years meticulously researching and plotting his moves. With a body he doesn’t recognize, he’ll spend time getting used to it. He’d take the time to memorize every strength, weakness, and power it possesses. And given the new world they’ve found themselves in, there are too many unknowns for his comfort.
He’ll stay in the shadows and observe. Sending scouts one by one, testing, prodding. Expanding his repertoire and armada.
“He’s using Jas’s body! He’s using it to come through! I sensed him on Jas’s body!” The words keep spewing from her mouth, every possible train of thought, every hypothetical that crosses her mind. “And it’s not that. My mind is a trigger!”
It rattles her, even as she says it, as the reality before her sinks in.
“If I’m taken from this nightmare before I can stop him… we’re all doomed! This generation and all the rest! There won’t be an end! He’ll enslave all of us to a despicable fate! Cursed to hunt and hunt, to infect everything!”
Panic eats at her words as she flies through them, desperate for them to find a semblance of reasoning.
“Tell me! Do you want to watch your family die right in front of you again?! Do you want to watch your daughter turn into a monster before your eyes?! Do you want to see her turn into a corpse hellbent on consuming you and everything you love?! Do you want that to happen?!” Arkani screams. She pants, eyes darting back and forth.
The Ascendant turns on Arkani as soon as she tells him about his family, teeth bared with rage. “Of course I don’t want that! That’s why we’re getting rid of you! This wouldn’t be happening if you weren’t here, if you hadn’t brought whatever that was to our forest!” His voice drops to a low growl. “We were warned about this. We were warned to keep outsiders away, to stop things like you from poisoning the Roots. I should have listened.”
Let us help you.
He’s partially right. Of course he is. But it doesn’t stop the anger that bubbles out of Arkani. Her voice changes pitch, deep, thick, and cold. Her eyes turn into slits as she stares at the Ascendant.
Let us in.
“Do you really think this is what I wanted? To be the vessel, the catalyst, for which Sullivan uses to gorge on innocent blood? Do you really believe that a being like him would be satisfied with a small portion of the globe? That you would go undetected?” Arkani chuckles darkly, “What fools you lot are. At least Monster is sensible enough. There’s a whole world out there, and it was going to consume you one way or another.”
“If only you had listened to those who deserted, maybe your clan wouldn't have died out. Left to be forgotten in the middle of nowhere. The only one left to tell your story is the one you drove out. The one belittled and mocked and hunted for trying to help your clan thrive. But that’s how these things go, huh? Those stuck in their ways get crushed and beaten into the long list of the forgotten.” Arkani grins out of spite. “History has a hideous way of repeating itself.”
“I can’t let him gain control. I can’t let you stop me.”
Arkani’s magic activates.
Zena digs her claws in further before she shrieks with alarm. Inky black hands reach up, and the great shadows twist and throw her away from her back. Arkani leaps to her paws, dancing free from incoming swipes. Zena roars and slashes at them, but they engulf her quickly, encasing her in a heavy and thick tar. After a few seconds, Zena remains motionless, and the shadows dissipate from her unconscious body.
Arkani lowers her head and charges the Ascendant, willing the shadows to bind him. Slimy chains wrap around his ankles, wrenching them from underneath him.
“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” Arkani bellows, tackling the Imperial with renewed strength, shoving a fistful of ink down his throat. She jumps away from him as he raises his arm to claw at her. “I didn’t want to use force!” Arkani sees him choking on the ink, scratching at it as she did. The Ascendant arcs his back in a desperate attempt to breathe.
They collapse to the cave floor behind her. Monster bursts through the entrance, gasping for air, poised to join the fray. She gasps, sensing the stillness.
“Don’t worry, they’re unconscious, not dead. They’ll be up in a few moments.” Arkani mumbles, tapping her shoulder lightly with her wing. “We need to leave. Now.”
Arkani shuts her eyes and runs out of the cave; she has no time to spare.
She must prevent him from finishing his real form.
She must.
Cursed RootsArkani skids to a halt, gasping for air.
Jas’ body is already rotting, melting into the watery soil of the hungry grove. Roots have pushed up through the surface, snaking soft white worms across their matted fur. Like any body left out in the rain, they’ve started to stink.
The Ascendant follows Arkani to witness the heresy, pelting through the forest on her heels. He won’t let her do anything to Jas, he won’t, and yet - there is a chance, with this power, that she can do something right.
Yeah right, whispers the voice in the back of her head. Can’t do anything right.
Arkani shuts her eyes with a snort, shaking off the voices in her head.
She steps closer to Jas’s decaying corpse. Shadows hiss at her approach, baring their fangs. A crooked smile plays on her lips.
Let us help you.
Her hunch was right.
Make it right.
“You should’ve killed me when you had the chance, Sullivan.” Arkani lifts her arms, spreading her claws over the body. “Oh, but that’s right, you’ve always been a cautious fellow, huh?” She chuckles. And with a snarl, “I will repay you this hell a thousand times over.”
Her magic activates and her shadows invade, scratching, tearing at the ichor that boils in Jas’s veins.
Jas spits up ichor-tainted blood.
The severed head - eaten by Sullivan’s attendant - has woven itself back onto the neck out of the torn flesh, the shadows mending and sewing muscle. The body sputters and coughs, just like the first time she plunged her claws into it and dragged Jas back from the dead, and it’s breathing- but it’s not Jas. She knows it’s not their Jas, that’s why she’s here -
Magic weaves into the body, suppressing the thing inside -
A body tackles her to the ground with a thud, canceling her only way of suppressing him.
“Wha-?” Arkani gasps through the weight pressing down on her.
The Ascendant wasn’t the only one who followed her.
Claws sink into the back of her skull, fresh blood welling to the surface. Arkani cries out, mud filling her mouth.
“Our history…” The Ascendant whispers, gripping the ground, glaring down at Arkani. “Our heritage. You don't understand us, stranger. That cave is everything we are, everything we've always been. You honour your dead, don't you?” He growls, his whiskers standing on end. He takes a deep breath, reaching a conclusion in his mind.
“You don’t understand!” Arkani howls. “I need to-”
“Thank you, little one. It’s nice to know that my family still speaks, even if they won’t speak to me.”
He’s soothed himself in an infinitely frustrating way; he turns, making a quick little nod at the Fae holding Arkani down.
“W-Wait!” Arkani cries, clawing at Zena’s grip, but is too small, too out of reach.
They drag her, ignoring her pleas.
The main cave is empty of every dragon but the Ascendant. He stands in front of her painting, his tattered wings folded back, his eyes taking in her artwork.
“I don't know what you did to Jas,” he speaks softly, calmly, a stark contrast to the situation she’s in. “But it wasn't done by the Roots. If they possessed the power to save us, don't you think they would have done it before? Wouldn't they have saved the hatchlings? Wouldn't they have saved my wife?” His eyes flash.
“What makes you special? What makes you more worthy than my clan, my family?” He presses a claw against the painting, and her body reacts without warning. Arkani surges forward in a blind panic, a deep terror flooding out common sense. Zena slams her head into the ground once more, adjusting her grip harder.
Paint pools onto the floor where blood should be, sickly and yellow, pustulent and bright.
“Listen to me!” Arkani chokes through a mouthful of muddy paint. “Please!”
He drags his claws down the paint on the wall, tearing something inside her, pulling at the fragile threads of her soul. She didn't want to die.
You didn't want to be forgotten.
“We don't want you here. We don't need you here,” he slashes through her painting again, peeling away the pigment and leaving a brutal scar on the wall. “We don't want you in our history, tainting our MEMORIES!”
They're going to kill her.
“If you kill me, if you take me from the wall-” Arkani sputters, clenching an eye shut to block the pain. “I won’t be able to stop him!”
They're going to kill her and her body is writhing and howling and screaming and realising why she didn't run, why she couldn't leave it all behind -
You were loved, once. You were cherished, once. Who wouldn't give anything to have that again?
A family.
“Sullivan’s form isn’t complete!” Her words echo through the cave.
That’s right, Jas’s body wouldn’t be sinking into the mud if Sullivan was really here. It would’ve been like the hybridized corpses she fought and nearly died to. That’s his call sign.
She doesn’t quite understand his actions, but she knows this: Sullivan isn’t the type to dive headfirst into battle.
He’d spend years meticulously researching and plotting his moves. With a body he doesn’t recognize, he’ll spend time getting used to it. He’d take the time to memorize every strength, weakness, and power it possesses. And given the new world they’ve found themselves in, there are too many unknowns for his comfort.
He’ll stay in the shadows and observe. Sending scouts one by one, testing, prodding. Expanding his repertoire and armada.
“He’s using Jas’s body! He’s using it to come through! I sensed him on Jas’s body!” The words keep spewing from her mouth, every possible train of thought, every hypothetical that crosses her mind. “And it’s not that. My mind is a trigger!”
It rattles her, even as she says it, as the reality before her sinks in.
“If I’m taken from this nightmare before I can stop him… we’re all doomed! This generation and all the rest! There won’t be an end! He’ll enslave all of us to a despicable fate! Cursed to hunt and hunt, to infect everything!”
Panic eats at her words as she flies through them, desperate for them to find a semblance of reasoning.
“Tell me! Do you want to watch your family die right in front of you again?! Do you want to watch your daughter turn into a monster before your eyes?! Do you want to see her turn into a corpse hellbent on consuming you and everything you love?! Do you want that to happen?!” Arkani screams. She pants, eyes darting back and forth.
The Ascendant turns on Arkani as soon as she tells him about his family, teeth bared with rage. “Of course I don’t want that! That’s why we’re getting rid of you! This wouldn’t be happening if you weren’t here, if you hadn’t brought whatever that was to our forest!” His voice drops to a low growl. “We were warned about this. We were warned to keep outsiders away, to stop things like you from poisoning the Roots. I should have listened.”
Let us help you.
He’s partially right. Of course he is. But it doesn’t stop the anger that bubbles out of Arkani. Her voice changes pitch, deep, thick, and cold. Her eyes turn into slits as she stares at the Ascendant.
Let us in.
“Do you really think this is what I wanted? To be the vessel, the catalyst, for which Sullivan uses to gorge on innocent blood? Do you really believe that a being like him would be satisfied with a small portion of the globe? That you would go undetected?” Arkani chuckles darkly, “What fools you lot are. At least Monster is sensible enough. There’s a whole world out there, and it was going to consume you one way or another.”
“If only you had listened to those who deserted, maybe your clan wouldn't have died out. Left to be forgotten in the middle of nowhere. The only one left to tell your story is the one you drove out. The one belittled and mocked and hunted for trying to help your clan thrive. But that’s how these things go, huh? Those stuck in their ways get crushed and beaten into the long list of the forgotten.” Arkani grins out of spite. “History has a hideous way of repeating itself.”
“I can’t let him gain control. I can’t let you stop me.”
Arkani’s magic activates.
Zena digs her claws in further before she shrieks with alarm. Inky black hands reach up, and the great shadows twist and throw her away from her back. Arkani leaps to her paws, dancing free from incoming swipes. Zena roars and slashes at them, but they engulf her quickly, encasing her in a heavy and thick tar. After a few seconds, Zena remains motionless, and the shadows dissipate from her unconscious body.
Arkani lowers her head and charges the Ascendant, willing the shadows to bind him. Slimy chains wrap around his ankles, wrenching them from underneath him.
“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” Arkani bellows, tackling the Imperial with renewed strength, shoving a fistful of ink down his throat. She jumps away from him as he raises his arm to claw at her. “I didn’t want to use force!” Arkani sees him choking on the ink, scratching at it as she did. The Ascendant arcs his back in a desperate attempt to breathe.
They collapse to the cave floor behind her. Monster bursts through the entrance, gasping for air, poised to join the fray. She gasps, sensing the stillness.
“Don’t worry, they’re unconscious, not dead. They’ll be up in a few moments.” Arkani mumbles, tapping her shoulder lightly with her wing. “We need to leave. Now.”
Arkani shuts her eyes and runs out of the cave; she has no time to spare.
She must prevent him from finishing his real form.
She must.
Last edited on May 08, 2026 16:34:52 by ZeplenKing
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Cursed RootsThis nightmare is sinking deeper with every leap across the foliage, every stride she takes next to Monster.
They’re being pursued. The aggressor hurls through the forest after them, breaking branches and skittering across the leaf litter.
“Psst, under here. Quick, quick!” A voice calls out from beneath an old uprooted tree.
Monster skids as she changes direction, diving towards the voice and tumbling into the gap beneath the tree. Arkani follows at breakneck speed, hurling herself to shelter, roots ripping at her wings and hide.
Arkani can feel it. She’s too close to the Roots here; too close to that heaving, writhing mass that slides under the surface.
Arkani is scooped up and pulled further in, cradled by soft fur and the smell of paint. The Painter sets her and Monster down at the back of the hollow, tutting at the state of her head and back.
“No herbs, I'm sorry. You'll just have to let it fester for now.”
Monster is shaking, curling into herself. “Dad - he - he -”
“I know. I know.” The Painter soothes, busy at the front of the hollow, sweeping roots and leaves over the exit. “Just breathe. Just breathe.”
Arkani stares sorrowfully at her. She wants to apologise, to comfort her. Arkani looks at her paws, the Roots surging, twisting in and underneath her. You just won’t let me have a victory, will you?
The Roots surge under her, laughing at the misery of the thief they hate so vehemently.
An uneasy realisation floods through her.
You do realise he’ll come after you, right? Make you into one of his mindless brutes. You are a living thing, aren’t you?
The last leaf covers the exit to their hiding place. The Painter snaps her attention back to Arkani, interrupting her thoughts. “Listen to me, because this is important. Second Rain is coming, and it's coming fast. The clan must perform the rites, honour the dead, and they must renounce the Roots. We've let ourselves rot in this forest for far too long.”
She meets Arkani’s eyes, intense and calm and full of conviction. “I'm leaving this place. My family wouldn't want me to waste away living my life in stagnant water. And your mother wouldn't want that for you, either, little dove.” She speaks softly to Monster, gentle and kind. Arkani, of course, isn't given the same kindness.
She's leaving her mess for her to clear up, her rotten clan for Arkani to handle. She's abandoning them, but she won't do the decent thing and stop caring about them first.
Arkani summons her voice.
“Sullivan isn’t going to let my interference slide. He’ll be sending something, maybe even an army, to reclaim Jas’s body. And I… I don’t have any more of the cure nor a healer to save anyone. Myself included.” Arkani swallows, lifting her gaze to meet the Painter. “I need your help. Both of you. I need a distraction. A big one.” Arkani looks both of them in the eye. “I’ll need as much time as I can get to stop him. And…” Arkani’s voice falters. “I know this is offensive, but we need to burn the dead. As many and as quickly as possible. If I can’t stop him… he'll violate the dead more than not giving them their rites ever will.” She bites her cheek. No matter what they do, the dead will suffer. “So, got any extremely flammable substances?”
“Whatever you do, do not let yourself get injured by them. Otherwise… you’ll become one of them.” Arkani doesn’t know if that’ll be true in this dream world. The shadows, her eyes, are giving her mixed signals and it’s messing with her head. Arkani holds her head and her tongue, erring on the side of caution.
What is his plan?
These dragons must listen, they have to listen, or Sullivan will destroy everything they love.
“... Why?” Monster asks softly. “Why burn them? Once the Roots take them, they won’t come back.”
“Ordinarily, that would be the case. But… how to explain it…?” Arkani shifts uncomfortably, trying to select her words.
The Painter considers her carefully. “You know a lot more than you’re telling us, don’t you?” She spoke softly.
Arkani pauses and then nods. “Let’s just go with that for now. I promise I’ll explain everything later, but we’re really out of time.”
“If we follow your plan, we’ll be breaking taboo. A bigger taboo than planting seeds. Do you understand the gravity of that?” The Painter knows that she does. “We can get fire from the firelights. If you have a plan, we’ll burn the bodies.” Monster has found her certainty again, and she gives Arkani a welcomed grin. “You do have a plan, right?”
“It’s a long shot at best,” Arkani admits. “But it’s the only one we’ve got.”
Second Rain. It all comes back to Second Rain.
Her mind never belonged to her after being sucked through the vortex, not completely. And it’s fractured even more so here. It’s feeding her information she shouldn’t know, embedding something old and primal into her brain.
There are two Roots. The Roots in the ground and the Roots inside the dream body. Whatever they really are, whatever parasitic entities lurk in her skin and in the soil, they don't want to coexist.
Which begs the question -
What would it mean to truly renounce the Roots?
What would it mean for her? For the world outside, if she can’t right her failure?
Arkani shakes off the uneasy thoughts.
“The gist of the plan, for you two, is to keep the clan busy and away from Jas’s body while simultaneously destroying anything that can be resurrected. Essentially, any bones or otherwise resembling a living thing.” Arkani begins drawing on the floor with her claw. “I’ll be here handling the corruption of and in Jas’s body. There’s nothing you can do here, so you’ll just have to entrust this to me. Less chances of being interrupted, too.” She points to the circle. “This is the general direction from where Sullivan and his harbinger were last spotted. You stay away from here, got it?” Arkani circles the area around where she’ll be. “You know this forest and this clan better than anyone. I will entrust the locations of the fires and the rest to you.”
It's midnight, and the forest is full of candles.
Candles that she spent weeks making, setting, and hanging up to dry. Dying them every colour under the sun. Now they’re scattered across the forest floor and lit by the glow of the moon, they look like wildflowers.
Tonight, they'll be lit one by one until the forest is radiant with makeshift fireflies. It would be beautiful, should be beautiful, if it wasn't celebrating the Roots and in the wake of an awakening.
The Painter leads the three of them through the forest towards the grove. They barely have to make a new one: every route seems to lead straight there.
The firelights will glow through the trees if the clan is nearby. It's the perfect night to sneak around, when the dragons are all light-blind and religion comes before crime. Not that her pursuers would be out any other night; this clan doesn't travel in the dark.
It is, however, their last chance. Second Rain comes tomorrow and something inside her knows that this dream will end at the festival.
“It is kinda funny,” Monster breathes in her signature whisper that manages not to be quiet at all, dropping pace to match Arkani. “They're all prepping for Second Rain like we're not about to change everything.”
Monster looks up at Arkani with a hopeful grin, but clearly forced. She's struggling and shaken, and her smile is as much a mask as the Ascendant's neutrality.
Arkani couldn’t say anything to lighten the mood or assure Monster that it’ll all be alright. The situation is bleak and the last thing that she wants to plant in their minds is hope. False hope. A poisonous and evil thing.
She doesn’t want a repeat of what happened to Monster and subsequently the clan.
Monster takes a deep breath as the Painter slips out of the grove. She’ll circle to the left, a candle in hand, and take fire to the dead things that plague this sickly forest. It’s nice to have help for once.
“Alright. I… I guess I need to do my part, too, huh?” Monster speaks softly. “Will you plant the seeds while I’m gone…?” Arkani shakes her head. There are far too many reasons not to. She lets her frills drop a little. “This is scary, you know? But I bet it’s even scarier for you. You were the one who had to see-” Jas’ name dies in her throat.
“Stay safe. Do your thing. I’ll be back when I’m done. We’ll get Sullivan out of here, okay? We will.”
And then, she slips out of view.
Under the cover of darkness, Arkani follows the land back to Jas’s muddy grave.
The foul scent of death, of Sullivan, hangs in the air.
Arkani clings to the shadows, hiding her steps, scent, and form. She observes from a distance, scanning the grounds for movement, anything out of place.
Roars of alarm rise from the forest, a blaze roaring to life from further within.
It’s begun.
Arkani waits for another moment. No movement.
She makes her move, bounding out of the shadows, skidding to a halt next to Jas’s twitching body. She ignores the hissing from within the body, activating her magic.
It’s quiet. Too quiet.
…
Monster follows the mental map she created, ears trained for the footsteps of her clan. Monster homes in on a patch of the grove where some dead are buried. She sets the candle down, waiting for it to catch in this waterlogged gravesite.
“Did you really think we were just gonna wait here and celebrate Second Rain? After what that thing did?” Zena’s voice cuts through the grove like a sharp knife, popping out of some ferns with a large entourage tailing her.
“Second Rain!” Monster spits back, rage boiling over. She’s done. Done with this clan, done with Roots, done with it all. “Everything's about rituals with you! Doesn't matter that Jas left, doesn't matter what dad did, all that matters is we don't infringe on your rituals!”
“Can't you see what this thing has done to you, Monster? Can't you see what it's still doing?! It's manipulating you! You'd never have spoken like this, not ever-”
“- if I was in my right mind?” Monster snarls. “Well, guess what, I am! I have been for a long time, and it took losing faith to get there in the first place! Maybe I wouldn't have said it because I knew how you'd react, how you'd ALL react! Just like Jas!”
Zena spits with fury, claws catching the candlelight. “You're our seer, our family! You can't just spit on the dead and pretend we never cared about you!”
“Don't you get it?! Our clan died because the Roots don't care, not because they didn't give us an omen! They've never cared, not about us, or the forest, or a few seeds stuck in the ground! The hatchlings died because of us, because we nested in the river-cave and waited for a sign to tell us when we shouldn't! Mum died because you LEFT HER ALONE to sit vigil in the dark next to her dead kids. Because of your RITUALS!”
Shock ripples through the air.
A clanmate’s voice rings out, “Is it true, Monster?” The words are heavy as lead. “... That you never saw the signs? The ones you told us we-”
“NO! Because there ARE no signs! There NEVER HAVE BEEN!”
The atmosphere turns harsh.
“Liar -”
“Pariah!”
“You killed them, you killed them all -”
“Your own siblings -"
“Your own mother -”
Zena circles behind her. “I think it's pretty clear why nothing really can grow here.” Her words are cold, emotionless. “Why we've had so much bad luck with you."
The trees are full of teeth.
“You’re right. I can see why nothing grows around here.” Monster lifts her chin with a defiant smile, and the flames ignite behind her with a ravenous explosion.
Zena whips around, eyes widening.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” She grabs Monster by the shawl.
“My my, look at you fools.” A thick and slimy voice gurgles from the shadows of the trees. Zena lets go of Monster, turning on her heel to the voice with a growl. Monster shivers, dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. “Arguing instead of fleeing.” There’s a gurgling cry of pain as something slams someone into the ground.
Ripples of alarm and confusion ripple through the gathered dragons.
“Didn’t she warn you?” The voice cackles. “Ah, right, you all were too blind, too stubborn to listen.”
A muffled scream and flailing. “And now…” There’s a sickening pop, followed by several mournful, horrified, angry wailing. “You’ll all die.”
Monster’s frills spike out in horror; she doesn’t have to see to know. Doesn’t have to have vision to feel the deathly fiend in their midst.
“You might’ve lived if you followed her lead. She was this close to stopping my Master.” A screech bellows out. “But no, you had to stick to your rituals.”
Monster takes a step back, her paws trembling. A cold presence appears in front of her.
“And you…” The thick voice purrs into her ear, tipping her chin up with a broken claw. “Thank you for gathering such fine vessels. Oh, but don’t worry, I won’t let them kill you just yet.” He chuckles, his breath hot against her skin, blood in his scent. “Oh no, we have much bigger plans for you.”
The bloodbath begins.
Cursed RootsThis nightmare is sinking deeper with every leap across the foliage, every stride she takes next to Monster.
They’re being pursued. The aggressor hurls through the forest after them, breaking branches and skittering across the leaf litter.
“Psst, under here. Quick, quick!” A voice calls out from beneath an old uprooted tree.
Monster skids as she changes direction, diving towards the voice and tumbling into the gap beneath the tree. Arkani follows at breakneck speed, hurling herself to shelter, roots ripping at her wings and hide.
Arkani can feel it. She’s too close to the Roots here; too close to that heaving, writhing mass that slides under the surface.
Arkani is scooped up and pulled further in, cradled by soft fur and the smell of paint. The Painter sets her and Monster down at the back of the hollow, tutting at the state of her head and back.
“No herbs, I'm sorry. You'll just have to let it fester for now.”
Monster is shaking, curling into herself. “Dad - he - he -”
“I know. I know.” The Painter soothes, busy at the front of the hollow, sweeping roots and leaves over the exit. “Just breathe. Just breathe.”
Arkani stares sorrowfully at her. She wants to apologise, to comfort her. Arkani looks at her paws, the Roots surging, twisting in and underneath her. You just won’t let me have a victory, will you?
The Roots surge under her, laughing at the misery of the thief they hate so vehemently.
An uneasy realisation floods through her.
You do realise he’ll come after you, right? Make you into one of his mindless brutes. You are a living thing, aren’t you?
The last leaf covers the exit to their hiding place. The Painter snaps her attention back to Arkani, interrupting her thoughts. “Listen to me, because this is important. Second Rain is coming, and it's coming fast. The clan must perform the rites, honour the dead, and they must renounce the Roots. We've let ourselves rot in this forest for far too long.”
She meets Arkani’s eyes, intense and calm and full of conviction. “I'm leaving this place. My family wouldn't want me to waste away living my life in stagnant water. And your mother wouldn't want that for you, either, little dove.” She speaks softly to Monster, gentle and kind. Arkani, of course, isn't given the same kindness.
She's leaving her mess for her to clear up, her rotten clan for Arkani to handle. She's abandoning them, but she won't do the decent thing and stop caring about them first.
Arkani summons her voice.
“Sullivan isn’t going to let my interference slide. He’ll be sending something, maybe even an army, to reclaim Jas’s body. And I… I don’t have any more of the cure nor a healer to save anyone. Myself included.” Arkani swallows, lifting her gaze to meet the Painter. “I need your help. Both of you. I need a distraction. A big one.” Arkani looks both of them in the eye. “I’ll need as much time as I can get to stop him. And…” Arkani’s voice falters. “I know this is offensive, but we need to burn the dead. As many and as quickly as possible. If I can’t stop him… he'll violate the dead more than not giving them their rites ever will.” She bites her cheek. No matter what they do, the dead will suffer. “So, got any extremely flammable substances?”
“Whatever you do, do not let yourself get injured by them. Otherwise… you’ll become one of them.” Arkani doesn’t know if that’ll be true in this dream world. The shadows, her eyes, are giving her mixed signals and it’s messing with her head. Arkani holds her head and her tongue, erring on the side of caution.
What is his plan?
These dragons must listen, they have to listen, or Sullivan will destroy everything they love.
“... Why?” Monster asks softly. “Why burn them? Once the Roots take them, they won’t come back.”
“Ordinarily, that would be the case. But… how to explain it…?” Arkani shifts uncomfortably, trying to select her words.
The Painter considers her carefully. “You know a lot more than you’re telling us, don’t you?” She spoke softly.
Arkani pauses and then nods. “Let’s just go with that for now. I promise I’ll explain everything later, but we’re really out of time.”
“If we follow your plan, we’ll be breaking taboo. A bigger taboo than planting seeds. Do you understand the gravity of that?” The Painter knows that she does. “We can get fire from the firelights. If you have a plan, we’ll burn the bodies.” Monster has found her certainty again, and she gives Arkani a welcomed grin. “You do have a plan, right?”
“It’s a long shot at best,” Arkani admits. “But it’s the only one we’ve got.”
Second Rain. It all comes back to Second Rain.
Her mind never belonged to her after being sucked through the vortex, not completely. And it’s fractured even more so here. It’s feeding her information she shouldn’t know, embedding something old and primal into her brain.
There are two Roots. The Roots in the ground and the Roots inside the dream body. Whatever they really are, whatever parasitic entities lurk in her skin and in the soil, they don't want to coexist.
Which begs the question -
What would it mean to truly renounce the Roots?
What would it mean for her? For the world outside, if she can’t right her failure?
Arkani shakes off the uneasy thoughts.
“The gist of the plan, for you two, is to keep the clan busy and away from Jas’s body while simultaneously destroying anything that can be resurrected. Essentially, any bones or otherwise resembling a living thing.” Arkani begins drawing on the floor with her claw. “I’ll be here handling the corruption of and in Jas’s body. There’s nothing you can do here, so you’ll just have to entrust this to me. Less chances of being interrupted, too.” She points to the circle. “This is the general direction from where Sullivan and his harbinger were last spotted. You stay away from here, got it?” Arkani circles the area around where she’ll be. “You know this forest and this clan better than anyone. I will entrust the locations of the fires and the rest to you.”
It's midnight, and the forest is full of candles.
Candles that she spent weeks making, setting, and hanging up to dry. Dying them every colour under the sun. Now they’re scattered across the forest floor and lit by the glow of the moon, they look like wildflowers.
Tonight, they'll be lit one by one until the forest is radiant with makeshift fireflies. It would be beautiful, should be beautiful, if it wasn't celebrating the Roots and in the wake of an awakening.
The Painter leads the three of them through the forest towards the grove. They barely have to make a new one: every route seems to lead straight there.
The firelights will glow through the trees if the clan is nearby. It's the perfect night to sneak around, when the dragons are all light-blind and religion comes before crime. Not that her pursuers would be out any other night; this clan doesn't travel in the dark.
It is, however, their last chance. Second Rain comes tomorrow and something inside her knows that this dream will end at the festival.
“It is kinda funny,” Monster breathes in her signature whisper that manages not to be quiet at all, dropping pace to match Arkani. “They're all prepping for Second Rain like we're not about to change everything.”
Monster looks up at Arkani with a hopeful grin, but clearly forced. She's struggling and shaken, and her smile is as much a mask as the Ascendant's neutrality.
Arkani couldn’t say anything to lighten the mood or assure Monster that it’ll all be alright. The situation is bleak and the last thing that she wants to plant in their minds is hope. False hope. A poisonous and evil thing.
She doesn’t want a repeat of what happened to Monster and subsequently the clan.
Monster takes a deep breath as the Painter slips out of the grove. She’ll circle to the left, a candle in hand, and take fire to the dead things that plague this sickly forest. It’s nice to have help for once.
“Alright. I… I guess I need to do my part, too, huh?” Monster speaks softly. “Will you plant the seeds while I’m gone…?” Arkani shakes her head. There are far too many reasons not to. She lets her frills drop a little. “This is scary, you know? But I bet it’s even scarier for you. You were the one who had to see-” Jas’ name dies in her throat.
“Stay safe. Do your thing. I’ll be back when I’m done. We’ll get Sullivan out of here, okay? We will.”
And then, she slips out of view.
Under the cover of darkness, Arkani follows the land back to Jas’s muddy grave.
The foul scent of death, of Sullivan, hangs in the air.
Arkani clings to the shadows, hiding her steps, scent, and form. She observes from a distance, scanning the grounds for movement, anything out of place.
Roars of alarm rise from the forest, a blaze roaring to life from further within.
It’s begun.
Arkani waits for another moment. No movement.
She makes her move, bounding out of the shadows, skidding to a halt next to Jas’s twitching body. She ignores the hissing from within the body, activating her magic.
It’s quiet. Too quiet.
…
Monster follows the mental map she created, ears trained for the footsteps of her clan. Monster homes in on a patch of the grove where some dead are buried. She sets the candle down, waiting for it to catch in this waterlogged gravesite.
“Did you really think we were just gonna wait here and celebrate Second Rain? After what that thing did?” Zena’s voice cuts through the grove like a sharp knife, popping out of some ferns with a large entourage tailing her.
“Second Rain!” Monster spits back, rage boiling over. She’s done. Done with this clan, done with Roots, done with it all. “Everything's about rituals with you! Doesn't matter that Jas left, doesn't matter what dad did, all that matters is we don't infringe on your rituals!”
“Can't you see what this thing has done to you, Monster? Can't you see what it's still doing?! It's manipulating you! You'd never have spoken like this, not ever-”
“- if I was in my right mind?” Monster snarls. “Well, guess what, I am! I have been for a long time, and it took losing faith to get there in the first place! Maybe I wouldn't have said it because I knew how you'd react, how you'd ALL react! Just like Jas!”
Zena spits with fury, claws catching the candlelight. “You're our seer, our family! You can't just spit on the dead and pretend we never cared about you!”
“Don't you get it?! Our clan died because the Roots don't care, not because they didn't give us an omen! They've never cared, not about us, or the forest, or a few seeds stuck in the ground! The hatchlings died because of us, because we nested in the river-cave and waited for a sign to tell us when we shouldn't! Mum died because you LEFT HER ALONE to sit vigil in the dark next to her dead kids. Because of your RITUALS!”
Shock ripples through the air.
A clanmate’s voice rings out, “Is it true, Monster?” The words are heavy as lead. “... That you never saw the signs? The ones you told us we-”
“NO! Because there ARE no signs! There NEVER HAVE BEEN!”
The atmosphere turns harsh.
“Liar -”
“Pariah!”
“You killed them, you killed them all -”
“Your own siblings -"
“Your own mother -”
Zena circles behind her. “I think it's pretty clear why nothing really can grow here.” Her words are cold, emotionless. “Why we've had so much bad luck with you."
The trees are full of teeth.
“You’re right. I can see why nothing grows around here.” Monster lifts her chin with a defiant smile, and the flames ignite behind her with a ravenous explosion.
Zena whips around, eyes widening.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” She grabs Monster by the shawl.
“My my, look at you fools.” A thick and slimy voice gurgles from the shadows of the trees. Zena lets go of Monster, turning on her heel to the voice with a growl. Monster shivers, dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. “Arguing instead of fleeing.” There’s a gurgling cry of pain as something slams someone into the ground.
Ripples of alarm and confusion ripple through the gathered dragons.
“Didn’t she warn you?” The voice cackles. “Ah, right, you all were too blind, too stubborn to listen.”
A muffled scream and flailing. “And now…” There’s a sickening pop, followed by several mournful, horrified, angry wailing. “You’ll all die.”
Monster’s frills spike out in horror; she doesn’t have to see to know. Doesn’t have to have vision to feel the deathly fiend in their midst.
“You might’ve lived if you followed her lead. She was this close to stopping my Master.” A screech bellows out. “But no, you had to stick to your rituals.”
Monster takes a step back, her paws trembling. A cold presence appears in front of her.
“And you…” The thick voice purrs into her ear, tipping her chin up with a broken claw. “Thank you for gathering such fine vessels. Oh, but don’t worry, I won’t let them kill you just yet.” He chuckles, his breath hot against her skin, blood in his scent. “Oh no, we have much bigger plans for you.”
The bloodbath begins.
Last edited on May 08, 2026 16:35:12 by ZeplenKing
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[center][size=5][b]Arkani[/b][/size]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/qnc/3461646/1#post_3461646]Cursed Roots[/url]
Hosted by DuskAwakening
part 9[/center]
[hidden title="Cursed Roots"]
Something is [i]wrong[/i].
Jas’s corpse is too quiet, too [i]weak[/i].
Arkani bites her cheek, purging the last of the ichor.
Blood-chilling screams pierce the eerie silence. Arkani’s ears perk up, and her heart drops.
[i]No![/i] Her body launches into a sprint. [i]I was wrong. I was wrong![/i]
The trees flit by as Arkani races to the screams, leaves kicking up in her wake.
…
Despite her trembling frills, Monster snarls. “Arkani’s gonna stop you,” she spits. “Then she’ll kill you just for fun.”
She grabs the firestick with a flailing claw. The flickering end is nothing but an ember, smoldering under the bark of the wood. She braces herself against the ground and drives the burning end towards his heart.
The firestick whizzes past his head. “Hmm, you’ve got spirit, little one. Spitfires are good.” The monster in front of Monster grabs hold of her head. “But I’m afraid it’s no use.” He tuts, watching her squirm in his grasp.
“Let’s try this…” Ichor seeps from his paws, dripping down onto her head and into her eyes. It burns. [i]It burns.[/i] Monster roars in pain, clawing at the paw that holds her in place. The shawl melts from her face. The paw is removed. And…
And she can [i]see[/i].
[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/98714866][img alt=""]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/dressing-room/scry?sdid=4953722&skin=60550&apparel=37397,59938,42680,42697&xt=dressing.png[/img][/url][/center]
“Hello sunshine.” Wesley purrs. The colors and the scent and the screams, it’s all too much for Monster. Her knees buckle out from beneath her, and she hurls.
Red stains the trees, soaking into the muddy slop. Long-dead corpses hunt the living, tearing them limb from limb. Zena flees, but is no match for the undead, uncaring creatures that invade. They take her leg, she crashes to the floor, and with a final shriek, is no more.
“Oh, and I have a special treat for you, little vessel.”
…
Arkani bursts through the trees into the grove, skidding to a halt to avoid a ravenous snap of jaws. [i]No![/i] It flies past her, sinking its fangs into a tree with a crushing blow. It shakes its head, locking back on target, and lunges. There's the snap of tree roots, and then a whoosh as a tree slams into the beast with tremendous force.
“Not yet.” A sickeningly familiar voice growls.
Arkani’s eyes fall onto Monster, who has collapsed onto her knees, chained down and staring at a figure, and her eyes widen.
[i]NO![/i]
“MONSTER!” Arkani roars, surging toward her friend. Shadowy chains wrap around Arkani and force her down to the ground. Monster turns at her voice, and what Arkani sees makes her sick to her stomach.
Ichor oozes out of her bloodshot eyes, staining her scales with its foul presence.
And for the first time, Monster sees the one she calls a friend. Not as the rotting dream corpse, but for who Arkani really is.
“Oh, patience, little one. The show’s about to begin.” Wesley snarls.
The Guardian lifts up a familiar dragon. “Look at this specimen here, he’s got quite the history, no?” His claws trace the paint on his hide, the little bellflower. “Killed his wife, his clanmate, and well, now his entire clan. All because he couldn’t let go of the old rotten Roots.” Wesley takes in a deep breath, tasting the air. “Wouldn't you two agree?”
The Ascendant is limp in his claws, eyes wide with fear, darting between Arkani and Monster.
“YOU LET HIM GO!” Arkani roars, ripping at the shadows holding her. They don’t let up; instead, they sink their teeth further into her pelt.
Wesley tilts his head from one side to another. “Mmm, alright.” Wesley grins, dropping him onto the floor. “He’s free to go….” Wesley removes the gag and the chains holding him in place. “That is [i]if[/i] he can survive.” Wesley plunges a claw into the Ascendant's hide, carving along the grain of the bellflower painting.
The Ascendant roars in pain, howling as ichor infects his body. Monster and Arkani scream in despair.
“DAD!” Monster howls.
His body twitches, black foam spewing out of his mouth. An eye changes into a hungry black. He looks at Monster one final lucid time.
“M-Monster… I-I… l-love you…” Are his final words.
The body expands, gathering upon a broken husk, fresh wings burst from its back with a roar. Bones crack and emerge from along the spine. New limbs spindle out of its body, wrenching free from the broken flesh. Seething hunger snaps its jaws together, letting out a chilling shriek. Ichor runs down its backside, fueling the ravenous appetite.
Monster clenches her eyes shut, whimpering.
“No…” Arkani whispers in utter horror.
Wesley turns his gaze to Arkani, directing the abomination away from them, and throws his head back and laughs. “Did you really think that measly little corpse was the [i]only[/i] way my Master could break the silly seal on your mind?” His tail slaps the ground with amusement. “Truly pathetic, little one, to fall for such a lie.” Wesley calms himself, “Those shadows of yours are quite inexperienced in such things, though I was expecting a little more of a bite.” He turns back to Monster.
[i]Enough.[/i]
“And now, the grand finale begins.” A wicked smile spreads across his face.
[i]Stop.[/i]
Wesley approaches Monster, eyes flashing. Her eyes snap open, shadows lifting her face to meet his gaze.
[i]Stop![/i]
“You can feel it, can’t you, little vessel?”
Arkani bashes herself against the chains, screaming, doing anything she can to break free.
A paw grips Arkani’s head, forcing her down, the weight digging her into the mud.
“Watch.” He rumbles into her ear. “Watch as everyone you care about [i]dies[/i].” Wesley snaps his claws, and Monster begins to howl, stumbling back, choking on air.
“MONSTER!!!” Arkani howls, pawing at the ground.
[i]The painting must be me, right? It[/i] has [i]to be me.[/i]
Red scales fade to orange, a black film spreading over her skin. Black blood drips from her nostrils, splashing onto the earth.
“No no no!”
[i]Stop![/i]
... [i]But I can't remember why[/i] …
“Arkani-” the name is soft on her tongue, heartbroken and afraid. She collapses, heaving up a spatter of blackened blood, spitting dark bile across the ground.
[i]Why did you leave me?
Did you[/i] want [i]to forget me?[/i]
“NO!” Arkani wails, biting at the paw that holds her in place, struggling even more fiercely in the chains.
Monster heaves sticky bile and black ichor. She gasps in quick breaths, air failing to hit the bottom of her lungs. Panic is setting in. “Help me, HELP ME, I don't wanna die, I don't wanna -”
[i]Stop! Stop! Stop![/i]
[i]Did I do something wrong?[/i]
Blood bubbles into her lungs. Arkani hears the rattle, the telltale wheeze of death's door.
Monster slumps to the ground, her body beginning to contort in uncontrollable twitching. Monster extends a trembling paw toward Arkani, a plea on her lips, the final semblance of her before it all twists into that wretched oozing ichor.
Rage boils inside Arkani like a freshly brewing storm. The clan came here to kill, to kill [i]her[/i], to commit her to the bitter thing lurking beneath the surface. And [i]they[/i], Arkani snarls, they came to break her. To use her. And she…
She tore herself from the parent to propagate, to devour and grow and become something new, and instead, she was met with a tattered bluebell patch and a fae with a brilliant smile.
She… fell right into their trap.
Monster’s body flickers in the candlelight as it rises, huffing, screeching for blood.
Arkani [i]is[/i] the forest. She is the lurking Roots, the twisted soil full of stagnant water. She is the candlelit dream, the overflowing river, the hungry colossus with a belly full of blood. Power swirls inside her as it did on that first night, wild and unknowable and new. It is - fundamentally - change.
Something [i]will[/i] change today.
“STOP IT!” Arkani roars, the Roots surging with her sorrow, blending with the shadows inside her.
A pleased smirk flickers onto Wesley’s face as he tilts his head back and to the side.
“[i]There you are.[/i]” Another voice rumbles, full of delight. Two voices… [i]as one[/i].
[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/94012649][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/940127/94012649_350.png[/img][/url][/center]
Somewhere near the Blight Sanctum:
[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/101266795][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/1012668/101266795_350.png[/img][/url][/center]
An Aberration wakes, a tug on his heart nudging him awake. Light spills out of his eyes as he blinks into alertness. He climbs out of his bed, kneeling at its side, tilting his heads to listen to a soft whisper.
“I see.” He says after a moment. “Something is wrong. I know you see it. I don’t know who you're bringing to mind, but I pray that you'll save them from the darkness that approaches. Bring them into your protective light, my Lord.”
-----
[center][Url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/103232418][img alt=""]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=1&body=173&bodygene=379&breed=17&element=7&eyetype=6&gender=1&tert=10&tertgene=26&winggene=380&wings=53&auth=325a01d8a72decec248a2c0def1f9555be3d694c&dummyext=prev.png[/img][/url][/center]
Black ink pools beneath Monster's eye sockets: a puddle of ichor, reduced to the tears of a Kodiak.
[i]“Wait. Wait.”[/i] She speaks softly. [i]“Before you do, I - I need to know. What happened to the forest? Did it ever heal?”[/i]
Arkani bites her cheek, knowing the answer to that.
Would it be cruel to tell her the truth now, right at the very end? She’s waited for her for a long time, staving off the corruption, listening to the howl of the rain outside. She wonders what she’s thought about all these years; she has to wonder if forgetting was a mercy, or if the unknown has been just as cruel as it was for her.
“The corruption was staved off until now. But I will make sure it stays gone. Permanently this time.”
Arkani approaches with the fire, ichor slithering away from the heat and pooling at the back of the cave. A cornered rat. A terrified animal.
Monster faces Arkani, watching death close its jaws on her at last.
[i]“Just don’t… don’t forget me, alright? I don’t want this to be all I ever was. I want to be painted on the wall.”[/i] Her voice breaks. [i]“I want to be painted…”[/i]
Time comes to a standstill.
A white lion stands on the edge of her vision, eyes gently on her. He’s almost blinding, the ichor vaporizing as his light comes into contact with it.
[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/91720983][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/859692/85969104_350.png[/img][/url][/center]
[color=#FFD700]“Do not be afraid, little one.”[/color]
Arkani stands there, eyes somber, but unmoving. The fire flickers, but does not lap at her bones. Monster whimpers, confused.
[color=#FFD700]“My Father has heard your plea.”[/color] The white lion smiles kindly at Monster. [color=#FFD700]“You are loved far more than you’ll ever know, Monster. Even now, another is interceding on your behalf. Truly, those who have twisted the truth have received their reward in full.”[/color] His eyes shift to Arkani, his features softening. He pads up to her, pressing his forehead against hers. A single tear rolls down her cheek.
The lion turns back to Monster, [color=#FFD700]“You sit at a crossroads, little one. You know she needs you. Will you reject your old ways and follow me? Or will you hold onto the lies and return to ashes?”[/color]
[b]A. Reject him and perish
B. Take a chance and accept his offer
[/b]
The fire catches.
Arkani blinks, taking a step back, touching her cheek. “Qengji?” Arkani whispers, eyes widening. She could’ve sworn she saw a white lion with a paw resting on Monster’s skull.
And then, Monster is gone.
------
Arkani steps outside of the cave and the forest begins to groan. The trees quiver as the ground quakes beneath them. A monstrous roar lifts from further within.
Sullivan.
Arkani sets the log down, using an accelerant to make the fire catch and burn hot.
[b]Boom![/b]
Explosions ripple through the forest, the forest reeling beneath her feet. Someone else is in this forest.
Arkani grits her teeth and pushes off into a breakneck sprint toward the sound, her head low. Tracking.
A familiar scent penetrates her nostrils as she runs. [i]It’s different but…[/i] Hope blossoms in her chest.
The rat-a-tat-ta of a mini-gun spurs her on. Passing the ashes of fallen Kodiaks. Past the smoldering and disintegrating corpses of Kodiaks.
Arkani arrives on the scene, and across the clearing lies a rough-looking Gaoler. Large turrets rest at her sides, their barrels smoking. In front of her lie several mounds of Kodiaks, all fading.
[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/101139198][img alt=""]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=1&body=30&bodygene=174&breed=17&element=6&eyetype=8&gender=0&tert=58&tertgene=26&winggene=216&wings=10&auth=d6651e21c470b05c8e722fa54e4d30c8149465cf&dummyext=prev.png[/img][/url][/center]
The Gaoler catches sight of her and yells, “Stay away, it’s dangerous! Run that way!” Her voice is like honey to Arkani, and she begins to sob.
There’s no mistaking her.
“Mom!” Arkani roars.
The Gaoler blinks, taken aback. “ARKANI?!” She roars back, visible relief sinking into her features.
Arkani sniffles, ready to run to her mother’s arms when a sickening rip freezes her in place. Arkani coughs, blood dribbling from her mouth. She looks down, gasping for air.
[i]“N-No…”[/i]
A slick tail pierces through her stomach, the rotten ichor oozing and mixing with her blood. She didn’t check to see if it was alive. And in its last lick of life, it evolved.
The tail disintegrates fully, and Arkani stumbles back, gripping at the open wound.
[i]“This isn’t… this isn’t how it’s supposed to end!”[/i]
She can see her mother racing toward her, screaming a name she no longer recognizes.
[i]“It’s… cold…”[/i]
“Mum,” Arkani whispers.
[i]“How odd… I feel like I’ve heard this before...”[/i]
Monster stands in front of her, a bittersweet smile on her face, and extends a paw.
The world lurches, darkness crossing her vision.
[i]“I’m coming home, Monster.”[/i]
Arkani falls face down into the mud.
[/hidden]
Cursed RootsSomething is wrong.
Jas’s corpse is too quiet, too weak.
Arkani bites her cheek, purging the last of the ichor.
Blood-chilling screams pierce the eerie silence. Arkani’s ears perk up, and her heart drops.
No! Her body launches into a sprint. I was wrong. I was wrong!
The trees flit by as Arkani races to the screams, leaves kicking up in her wake.
…
Despite her trembling frills, Monster snarls. “Arkani’s gonna stop you,” she spits. “Then she’ll kill you just for fun.”
She grabs the firestick with a flailing claw. The flickering end is nothing but an ember, smoldering under the bark of the wood. She braces herself against the ground and drives the burning end towards his heart.
The firestick whizzes past his head. “Hmm, you’ve got spirit, little one. Spitfires are good.” The monster in front of Monster grabs hold of her head. “But I’m afraid it’s no use.” He tuts, watching her squirm in his grasp.
“Let’s try this…” Ichor seeps from his paws, dripping down onto her head and into her eyes. It burns. It burns. Monster roars in pain, clawing at the paw that holds her in place. The shawl melts from her face. The paw is removed. And…
And she can see.
“Hello sunshine.” Wesley purrs. The colors and the scent and the screams, it’s all too much for Monster. Her knees buckle out from beneath her, and she hurls.
Red stains the trees, soaking into the muddy slop. Long-dead corpses hunt the living, tearing them limb from limb. Zena flees, but is no match for the undead, uncaring creatures that invade. They take her leg, she crashes to the floor, and with a final shriek, is no more.
“Oh, and I have a special treat for you, little vessel.”
…
Arkani bursts through the trees into the grove, skidding to a halt to avoid a ravenous snap of jaws. No! It flies past her, sinking its fangs into a tree with a crushing blow. It shakes its head, locking back on target, and lunges. There's the snap of tree roots, and then a whoosh as a tree slams into the beast with tremendous force.
“Not yet.” A sickeningly familiar voice growls.
Arkani’s eyes fall onto Monster, who has collapsed onto her knees, chained down and staring at a figure, and her eyes widen.
NO!
“MONSTER!” Arkani roars, surging toward her friend. Shadowy chains wrap around Arkani and force her down to the ground. Monster turns at her voice, and what Arkani sees makes her sick to her stomach.
Ichor oozes out of her bloodshot eyes, staining her scales with its foul presence.
And for the first time, Monster sees the one she calls a friend. Not as the rotting dream corpse, but for who Arkani really is.
“Oh, patience, little one. The show’s about to begin.” Wesley snarls.
The Guardian lifts up a familiar dragon. “Look at this specimen here, he’s got quite the history, no?” His claws trace the paint on his hide, the little bellflower. “Killed his wife, his clanmate, and well, now his entire clan. All because he couldn’t let go of the old rotten Roots.” Wesley takes in a deep breath, tasting the air. “Wouldn't you two agree?”
The Ascendant is limp in his claws, eyes wide with fear, darting between Arkani and Monster.
“YOU LET HIM GO!” Arkani roars, ripping at the shadows holding her. They don’t let up; instead, they sink their teeth further into her pelt.
Wesley tilts his head from one side to another. “Mmm, alright.” Wesley grins, dropping him onto the floor. “He’s free to go….” Wesley removes the gag and the chains holding him in place. “That is if he can survive.” Wesley plunges a claw into the Ascendant's hide, carving along the grain of the bellflower painting.
The Ascendant roars in pain, howling as ichor infects his body. Monster and Arkani scream in despair.
“DAD!” Monster howls.
His body twitches, black foam spewing out of his mouth. An eye changes into a hungry black. He looks at Monster one final lucid time.
“M-Monster… I-I… l-love you…” Are his final words.
The body expands, gathering upon a broken husk, fresh wings burst from its back with a roar. Bones crack and emerge from along the spine. New limbs spindle out of its body, wrenching free from the broken flesh. Seething hunger snaps its jaws together, letting out a chilling shriek. Ichor runs down its backside, fueling the ravenous appetite.
Monster clenches her eyes shut, whimpering.
“No…” Arkani whispers in utter horror.
Wesley turns his gaze to Arkani, directing the abomination away from them, and throws his head back and laughs. “Did you really think that measly little corpse was the only way my Master could break the silly seal on your mind?” His tail slaps the ground with amusement. “Truly pathetic, little one, to fall for such a lie.” Wesley calms himself, “Those shadows of yours are quite inexperienced in such things, though I was expecting a little more of a bite.” He turns back to Monster.
Enough.
“And now, the grand finale begins.” A wicked smile spreads across his face.
Stop.
Wesley approaches Monster, eyes flashing. Her eyes snap open, shadows lifting her face to meet his gaze.
Stop!
“You can feel it, can’t you, little vessel?”
Arkani bashes herself against the chains, screaming, doing anything she can to break free.
A paw grips Arkani’s head, forcing her down, the weight digging her into the mud.
“Watch.” He rumbles into her ear. “Watch as everyone you care about dies.” Wesley snaps his claws, and Monster begins to howl, stumbling back, choking on air.
“MONSTER!!!” Arkani howls, pawing at the ground.
The painting must be me, right? It has to be me.
Red scales fade to orange, a black film spreading over her skin. Black blood drips from her nostrils, splashing onto the earth.
“No no no!”
Stop!
... But I can't remember why …
“Arkani-” the name is soft on her tongue, heartbroken and afraid. She collapses, heaving up a spatter of blackened blood, spitting dark bile across the ground.
Why did you leave me?
Did you want to forget me?
“NO!” Arkani wails, biting at the paw that holds her in place, struggling even more fiercely in the chains.
Monster heaves sticky bile and black ichor. She gasps in quick breaths, air failing to hit the bottom of her lungs. Panic is setting in. “Help me, HELP ME, I don't wanna die, I don't wanna -”
Stop! Stop! Stop!
Did I do something wrong?
Blood bubbles into her lungs. Arkani hears the rattle, the telltale wheeze of death's door.
Monster slumps to the ground, her body beginning to contort in uncontrollable twitching. Monster extends a trembling paw toward Arkani, a plea on her lips, the final semblance of her before it all twists into that wretched oozing ichor.
Rage boils inside Arkani like a freshly brewing storm. The clan came here to kill, to kill her, to commit her to the bitter thing lurking beneath the surface. And they, Arkani snarls, they came to break her. To use her. And she…
She tore herself from the parent to propagate, to devour and grow and become something new, and instead, she was met with a tattered bluebell patch and a fae with a brilliant smile.
She… fell right into their trap.
Monster’s body flickers in the candlelight as it rises, huffing, screeching for blood.
Arkani is the forest. She is the lurking Roots, the twisted soil full of stagnant water. She is the candlelit dream, the overflowing river, the hungry colossus with a belly full of blood. Power swirls inside her as it did on that first night, wild and unknowable and new. It is - fundamentally - change.
Something will change today.
“STOP IT!” Arkani roars, the Roots surging with her sorrow, blending with the shadows inside her.
A pleased smirk flickers onto Wesley’s face as he tilts his head back and to the side.
“There you are.” Another voice rumbles, full of delight. Two voices… as one.
Somewhere near the Blight Sanctum:
An Aberration wakes, a tug on his heart nudging him awake. Light spills out of his eyes as he blinks into alertness. He climbs out of his bed, kneeling at its side, tilting his heads to listen to a soft whisper.
“I see.” He says after a moment. “Something is wrong. I know you see it. I don’t know who you're bringing to mind, but I pray that you'll save them from the darkness that approaches. Bring them into your protective light, my Lord.”
Black ink pools beneath Monster's eye sockets: a puddle of ichor, reduced to the tears of a Kodiak.
“Wait. Wait.” She speaks softly. “Before you do, I - I need to know. What happened to the forest? Did it ever heal?”
Arkani bites her cheek, knowing the answer to that.
Would it be cruel to tell her the truth now, right at the very end? She’s waited for her for a long time, staving off the corruption, listening to the howl of the rain outside. She wonders what she’s thought about all these years; she has to wonder if forgetting was a mercy, or if the unknown has been just as cruel as it was for her.
“The corruption was staved off until now. But I will make sure it stays gone. Permanently this time.”
Arkani approaches with the fire, ichor slithering away from the heat and pooling at the back of the cave. A cornered rat. A terrified animal.
Monster faces Arkani, watching death close its jaws on her at last.
“Just don’t… don’t forget me, alright? I don’t want this to be all I ever was. I want to be painted on the wall.” Her voice breaks. “I want to be painted…”
Time comes to a standstill.
A white lion stands on the edge of her vision, eyes gently on her. He’s almost blinding, the ichor vaporizing as his light comes into contact with it.
“Do not be afraid, little one.”
Arkani stands there, eyes somber, but unmoving. The fire flickers, but does not lap at her bones. Monster whimpers, confused.
“My Father has heard your plea.” The white lion smiles kindly at Monster. “You are loved far more than you’ll ever know, Monster. Even now, another is interceding on your behalf. Truly, those who have twisted the truth have received their reward in full.” His eyes shift to Arkani, his features softening. He pads up to her, pressing his forehead against hers. A single tear rolls down her cheek.
The lion turns back to Monster, “You sit at a crossroads, little one. You know she needs you. Will you reject your old ways and follow me? Or will you hold onto the lies and return to ashes?”
A. Reject him and perish
B. Take a chance and accept his offer
The fire catches.
Arkani blinks, taking a step back, touching her cheek. “Qengji?” Arkani whispers, eyes widening. She could’ve sworn she saw a white lion with a paw resting on Monster’s skull.
And then, Monster is gone.
Arkani steps outside of the cave and the forest begins to groan. The trees quiver as the ground quakes beneath them. A monstrous roar lifts from further within.
Sullivan.
Arkani sets the log down, using an accelerant to make the fire catch and burn hot.
Boom!
Explosions ripple through the forest, the forest reeling beneath her feet. Someone else is in this forest.
Arkani grits her teeth and pushes off into a breakneck sprint toward the sound, her head low. Tracking.
A familiar scent penetrates her nostrils as she runs. It’s different but… Hope blossoms in her chest.
The rat-a-tat-ta of a mini-gun spurs her on. Passing the ashes of fallen Kodiaks. Past the smoldering and disintegrating corpses of Kodiaks.
Arkani arrives on the scene, and across the clearing lies a rough-looking Gaoler. Large turrets rest at her sides, their barrels smoking. In front of her lie several mounds of Kodiaks, all fading.
The Gaoler catches sight of her and yells, “Stay away, it’s dangerous! Run that way!” Her voice is like honey to Arkani, and she begins to sob.
There’s no mistaking her.
“Mom!” Arkani roars.
The Gaoler blinks, taken aback. “ARKANI?!” She roars back, visible relief sinking into her features.
Arkani sniffles, ready to run to her mother’s arms when a sickening rip freezes her in place. Arkani coughs, blood dribbling from her mouth. She looks down, gasping for air.
“N-No…”
A slick tail pierces through her stomach, the rotten ichor oozing and mixing with her blood. She didn’t check to see if it was alive. And in its last lick of life, it evolved.
The tail disintegrates fully, and Arkani stumbles back, gripping at the open wound.
“This isn’t… this isn’t how it’s supposed to end!”
She can see her mother racing toward her, screaming a name she no longer recognizes.
“It’s… cold…”
“Mum,” Arkani whispers.
“How odd… I feel like I’ve heard this before...”
Monster stands in front of her, a bittersweet smile on her face, and extends a paw.
The world lurches, darkness crossing her vision.
“I’m coming home, Monster.”
Arkani falls face down into the mud.
Last edited on May 08, 2026 16:35:36 by ZeplenKing
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