11-19-2020, 10:50 PM
when all of hell is full, the dead shall walk the earth
The smell of soot and ash reached him long before the light of the fire. The air nearly choked him but still he breathed deeply, relishing in the way the smoke squeezed his lungs and burned his throat. It was a familiar feeling, and one he immediately associated with the Chamber. All of the lands had felt fire at some time or another, but the Chamber was forged in it. The magic of their land had been fire, both in the literal sense and within the heart that beat beneath their feet. They were all children of the flame. Fire was their birthright, and they would use it to right the past wrongs.
He does not wait for the flames to dissipate before making his way to Straia. He steps into them, unafraid, his amber eyes reflecting the flames as they twisted and remade the lands in their own image. They licked against his blue black hide, though he did not feel their heat. This was no regular fire, but one of rebirth. Much like a phoenix rising from the ashes, what sprang forth from this fire was a renewal of the old lands. The wind whipped inside the inferno, while towering pines sprang from the charred ground. Still he walked calmly, though his heart beat a little bit faster in excitement and anticipation. As the world rearranged he heard her call ringing clearly above the din of cracking trees and the grinding of rocks. He responded with a howl, a long and forlorn thing that echoed through the new forest as if it were made for it. Perhaps, they were made for each other.
It did not take him long to find her, but he was not the first. There was a whole contingent gathered, and even above the smoke he can smell their fear and anger. It was a bitter scent, one that caused his lips to peel back from his wicked teeth and a growl to ripple across his tongue. His sire was among the crowd, but Warship felt little surprise. He himself had given many things to the Chamber, but his father had given his entire heart. With a respectful nod he came to rest near him, though his amber-colored eyes swept the others gathered amongst them. As he had known, there are those among them who are angry, and a part of him sympathized. He didn’t know him, and they didn’t know him. They were children of the new lands, and spared little feelings for the relics of the past. But on the other hand, their land was comparatively young, new. This loss surely was not as great as the loss of the old lands. Finally, his eyes found Straia, and he answered her with one simple statement.
”Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
Warship