The earth is careening straight down the tracks to hell and the humans are at fault.
Trapped in the dungeons of an ancient burial grounds and tortured to the brink of insanity, the God and Goddess of balance have been separated, unleashing a terrib...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A deep smile stretches along her lips. Meika Silverend. A sentient witch with enchanted blood and a deep hunger for battle. Slowly worn and jaded over time. No respect for Empty bloodlines, no remorse for the weak. Sweet, gentle, calm with superiors.
A loyalty that runs infinitely for only a few.
"Kali."
My nose scrunches up in a cringe. "Please, don't call me that. It's been ages."
The Fae-Witch laughs heartily, even approaching and clapping a hand on my shoulder. "What does the daughter of destruction go by these days then? Perhaps Celosia to nod at your brighter side? A previous religion, maybe?"
"No, have you not heard the girl cry my name?"
The ancient woman smirks. "Whenever they speak it sounds like white noise, I often ignore such insignificance."
"Great," Theron mutters. "Now there's two of them."
Against my better judgment, I attempt to stand. Her hand latches around my bicep and eases me onto my feet and with a more than intrusive gaze, searches my frame for further injury. Something seems to satisfy her when she lets go without another word.
"You've both assumed new identities then? Such are the times I suppose, conflicting, to say the least. Whether or not to fit in is always the question."
"Iridian," I say, glancing back to mark the locations of Theron and Remi. I track the sound of Daniels footsteps on the dirty pavement. Only a ways off, likely a mile at most.
Meika snorts a bit, startling the humans. "You named yourself after a select grain of granite?"
"Nevermind that, what were you doing with a group of Destroyers?"
She pauses for a moment and takes a long deep breath. The thin, faint wrinkles of time show for a moment. Her deep black hair shows simply in the sunlight, without any hints of silver. A sad look in her eyes tells me it's not the most lovely story.
Staying close to me, Meika shakes her head and looks up pleadingly. The shift instant and hidden from the others. Tears shine in her eyes even when she begs. "Not here."
Nodding, I turn on my heel and look over the others. Remi is tucked in a rough blanket with knees drawn up tight. Dark, smokey smudges of ash rest against her skin everywhere besides her wrists and ankles. Theron is no better, yet his features are paling slightly and I notice a darkening hue in his eyes.
When he blinks, it's washed away.
Daniel walks up from behind me and smirks. He hefts two large sacks with him, tossing them down on the ground by the already bursting packs we've been carrying with us and a new one I can only assume came from Meika.
He eyes her wearily and comes to stand on the other side of me.
"It's good to see you up and around," he says softly, resting a ginger hand on my shoulder blade. "How are you feeling, Ira?"
