01-03-2019, 02:42 PM
Of course he would slink back into the lotusland of Beqanna during the onset of a plague. What luck! What timing! What a wonderful coincidence to be welcomed home to! (A ‘welcome’, yeah, like that would be anywhere near close to what Eight will receive). Quite fitting, I’d say; a physical sickness sweeping the havens cat-calls Eight home. With all the rot and disease festering the land and her inhabitants- what’s one more magician-affliction reaching his tendrils across Beqanna?
He is no stranger to these lands, nor to the blight that occasionally sweeps through it. It seems every time he shakes off the rust and returns back home, there is some tumult and ruction rolling through. Why could he never come back to her when there is calm? Why must it always be when life is careening through the abyss, hellbent on destruction? (Perhaps this is a sign- perhaps he only feels her magnetic pull when it is time to stride in and stir the pot?)
Last time (eons ago, it feels like - though perhaps it’s just been years? Time is a fluid thing for a magician), the devastation was the breaking and converging of land, the Mountain rumbling through the core of the Earth, the Faeries fury and wrath, the stripping and regaining of power once more. Again, there is chaos; a sickness rapidly oozing over the land, an unknown monster slowly stealing the lives and strength of her lands. Oh, I’m sure there are safe havens - but we all know nothing is ever truly safe here. How quickly will this mull over? Or will it fester until Beqanna and her citizens drown in the pus and rot and blood?
Eight decides he will stay for a while. He will see for himself what this plague roils into, what tides of death and stink will wash over Beqanna. So he waits in the river-land, waiting for the current fail to fight off the freeze of winter, like Beqanna will fail in fighting the plague.
He is no stranger to these lands, nor to the blight that occasionally sweeps through it. It seems every time he shakes off the rust and returns back home, there is some tumult and ruction rolling through. Why could he never come back to her when there is calm? Why must it always be when life is careening through the abyss, hellbent on destruction? (Perhaps this is a sign- perhaps he only feels her magnetic pull when it is time to stride in and stir the pot?)
Last time (eons ago, it feels like - though perhaps it’s just been years? Time is a fluid thing for a magician), the devastation was the breaking and converging of land, the Mountain rumbling through the core of the Earth, the Faeries fury and wrath, the stripping and regaining of power once more. Again, there is chaos; a sickness rapidly oozing over the land, an unknown monster slowly stealing the lives and strength of her lands. Oh, I’m sure there are safe havens - but we all know nothing is ever truly safe here. How quickly will this mull over? Or will it fester until Beqanna and her citizens drown in the pus and rot and blood?
Eight decides he will stay for a while. He will see for himself what this plague roils into, what tides of death and stink will wash over Beqanna. So he waits in the river-land, waiting for the current fail to fight off the freeze of winter, like Beqanna will fail in fighting the plague.