And all this burning in my soul... [ Narrative ]
Characters: The wizard and the sorceress
Time: Now
Location: Demonreach
Content: It begins.
Warnings: None
It stands out against the blackness of the sea and the sky as an even deeper shadow. It isn’t silent - the white-foam waves crash and roar against all sides of island, owls and other invisible nocturnal creatures let out unsettling cries and shrieks from their perches and dens in the wooded areas, and a frigid April wind whistles through the branches of hundreds of trees.
The sky is filled with foreboding bulky clouds that hide the stars and the low, silvery moon - the prelude to a storm. It could have been any other night if not for the suffocating and powerful black magic that wafts through the air and over the lake. It isn’t the harmless dark magic that some practitioners dabble in - no, this is the magic of the ages, the death-dealing sort that has been festering for millennia. It bubbles over the land and the water now, waiting to streak towards the sky and split apart the other worlds.
It is the magic of destruction.
She stands on the sandy shores of Demonreach, eyes closing as strong winds off the lake whip her long dark hair away from her face. This is magic as she knows it - intensely compelling and archaic, it is a magic that sings in her blood. This is what she wanted and what she was always denied by her brother and by the man she would have almost sacrificed everything for. The man who sealed her away because of her pride and her lust for power.
There is no such thing as regret - it is a weakness she has never stood for.
And now he and all of those worlds he had been so desperate to protect would pay. The fires of hell were one thing, but to disappear into emptiness is another. He may have been the Seer, but she is the manipulator, the enchantress, Jezebel. The faces of darkness in other worlds, these were hers - the Outsiders. The serpentine red-eyed wizard, the master obsessed with darkness, the Grecian gods and goddesses - one word or whisper of power and they always fell. They always wanted more.
It is as natural as blood pouring into a heart.
“Morgana.”
She opens her eyes, feeling the warm familiar voice brush against the nape of her neck. “Hello, Merlin. Have you come to kill me?”
“You know I have.”
She lets out a laugh that sounds like shattering windchimes. “After so many years of running after each other, you think I will simply let you kill me?” She turns to face him and he’s so incredibly close that she can feel the heat radiating off his body, remembering that the last time she had been so close to him, it was as she tasted the bitter ash of his death curse wrap around her. But there are other memories too, of nights long past when the world was just theirs, kissing him, touching him, whispering promises that now meant nothing. She reaches up to stroke his cheek, but he’s faster than her - her wrist is caught in a frozen grip as he looks down at her, indifferent.
Cold anger simmers beneath her facade, igniting fire in her dark green eyes.
“I already know, Morgana. I’ve set things straight.”
She narrows her eyes. “Impossible. You are fooling yourself.”
“You blinded yourself and underestimated me.”
Morgana looks up at him and remembers other conversations from ages ago. No, this is not his time. He can only have seen her victory - he wants to play on strange words and deception.
“I loved you once.”
Who knows where the words come from? It is true for both of them. She smiles, closing her eyes again, letting the black magic soak into her veins. It will make her soar and she will see him die again and again if need be. She knows she has won this game. This is the way the world will end - on her terms.
She feels him step away, feels more magic incinerate the air. Obscenely dynamic, rich from knowledge - his magic was a gift that had never been seen before and would never be seen again.
It is the same with her.
For an eternity, everything is silent.
And then the clash of magic ignites the entire island, a thunderous boom echoing across the waves and awakening every soul that slept in the deep.
Time: Now
Location: Demonreach
Content: It begins.
Warnings: None
It stands out against the blackness of the sea and the sky as an even deeper shadow. It isn’t silent - the white-foam waves crash and roar against all sides of island, owls and other invisible nocturnal creatures let out unsettling cries and shrieks from their perches and dens in the wooded areas, and a frigid April wind whistles through the branches of hundreds of trees.
The sky is filled with foreboding bulky clouds that hide the stars and the low, silvery moon - the prelude to a storm. It could have been any other night if not for the suffocating and powerful black magic that wafts through the air and over the lake. It isn’t the harmless dark magic that some practitioners dabble in - no, this is the magic of the ages, the death-dealing sort that has been festering for millennia. It bubbles over the land and the water now, waiting to streak towards the sky and split apart the other worlds.
It is the magic of destruction.
She stands on the sandy shores of Demonreach, eyes closing as strong winds off the lake whip her long dark hair away from her face. This is magic as she knows it - intensely compelling and archaic, it is a magic that sings in her blood. This is what she wanted and what she was always denied by her brother and by the man she would have almost sacrificed everything for. The man who sealed her away because of her pride and her lust for power.
There is no such thing as regret - it is a weakness she has never stood for.
And now he and all of those worlds he had been so desperate to protect would pay. The fires of hell were one thing, but to disappear into emptiness is another. He may have been the Seer, but she is the manipulator, the enchantress, Jezebel. The faces of darkness in other worlds, these were hers - the Outsiders. The serpentine red-eyed wizard, the master obsessed with darkness, the Grecian gods and goddesses - one word or whisper of power and they always fell. They always wanted more.
It is as natural as blood pouring into a heart.
“Morgana.”
She opens her eyes, feeling the warm familiar voice brush against the nape of her neck. “Hello, Merlin. Have you come to kill me?”
“You know I have.”
She lets out a laugh that sounds like shattering windchimes. “After so many years of running after each other, you think I will simply let you kill me?” She turns to face him and he’s so incredibly close that she can feel the heat radiating off his body, remembering that the last time she had been so close to him, it was as she tasted the bitter ash of his death curse wrap around her. But there are other memories too, of nights long past when the world was just theirs, kissing him, touching him, whispering promises that now meant nothing. She reaches up to stroke his cheek, but he’s faster than her - her wrist is caught in a frozen grip as he looks down at her, indifferent.
Cold anger simmers beneath her facade, igniting fire in her dark green eyes.
“I already know, Morgana. I’ve set things straight.”
She narrows her eyes. “Impossible. You are fooling yourself.”
“You blinded yourself and underestimated me.”
Morgana looks up at him and remembers other conversations from ages ago. No, this is not his time. He can only have seen her victory - he wants to play on strange words and deception.
“I loved you once.”
Who knows where the words come from? It is true for both of them. She smiles, closing her eyes again, letting the black magic soak into her veins. It will make her soar and she will see him die again and again if need be. She knows she has won this game. This is the way the world will end - on her terms.
She feels him step away, feels more magic incinerate the air. Obscenely dynamic, rich from knowledge - his magic was a gift that had never been seen before and would never be seen again.
It is the same with her.
For an eternity, everything is silent.
And then the clash of magic ignites the entire island, a thunderous boom echoing across the waves and awakening every soul that slept in the deep.