What Azrel witnessed shook him to the core, a life-altering horror that etched itself into the very fabric of his being. It wasn't merely the loss of his family and friends unfolding before his eyes; it was the harrowing tableau of strangers intermingled with familiar faces, all succumbing to a fate that reduced them to symphonies of agony and despair. He felt their emotions, a cacophony of suffering, and the air was thick with the scent of their collective anguish. Amidst the cries, a haunting plea emerged, "Please, just kill us."
Luna had unfurled the scroll at the top of the Taurean Village Lighthouse, and at the utterance of the first word, a black magic circle sprawled so vast that it nearly reached the small city of Bryklin to the south. It encircled the harbor, the remaining ships, and extended a bit beyond, covering such a broad expanse and tapping into so much mana that Luna, in response, dropped to her knees. She teetered on the edge of a complete collapse, struggling to regain her composure.
Sol, keenly observant, noticed the black flames surrounding the etching beginning to dim. She raised her eyes to the apex of the lighthouse. Positioned at the bottom with Zus, holding Azrel and the lifeless bodies beside them, Sol swiftly seized a corpse and, with the same remarkable speed as before, ascended the stairs. She assisted Luna to her feet, but the spell had exacted a toll too great. Sol pulled the headless cadaver closer and began extracting marrow with swift determination. Placing Luna's weakened face in close proximity, Sol pressed her lips against hers, feeding her the marrow in a manner reminiscent of a bird nurturing its hatchlings. She repeated the action several times until Luna's eyes fluttered open, and a heartfelt "thank you" escaped her lips.
Sol nodded, aiding Luna to stand. Together, they resumed reciting the enchantment from the scroll.
In the shadows where darkness reigns,
Beneath the boughs where silence feigns.
From elven grace and lycan might,
And human spirit, lost in the night.
The four bodies next to Zus levitated, and shortly thereafter, the corpses from the initial ship followed suit. They congregated near the roots Luna had previously arranged, seamlessly merging into the flesh of the other bodies. Their limbs twisted and contorted until they were blended with the rest, a transformation executed with an unsettling ease.
Voided roots entwine, a dance so obscure,
Flesh and bark, an unholy allure.
Sacrifice of life, a macabre symphony,
Binding souls to eternal agony.
Azrel's horror intensified as he witnessed his brother being twisted into a spiral and folded into the roots of flesh. Following suit, more ascended from the ground, morphing into the roots with an eerie grace. Their eyes liquefied into sockets, releasing arcane energy that permeated the air with a palpable intensity.
In the cauldron of emptiness, let it brew,
Moonlight's sorrow, stars askew.
A grotesque creation, born of despair,
A haunting tree in the realm of nightmare.
The anchored ships began to succumb to the enchantment's effects. The black flames of the magic circle seized the vessels, igniting the wood and liquefying the metal. More significantly, they extended their grasp to every soul on board, resembling the tentacles of a kraken as they forcefully yanked patrons from the decks. They crashed into the hulls, wrenching those who were still preparing for landfall.
The flames continued their relentless extraction, one by one, ten by ten, hundreds by hundreds, emptying the ships of their occupants. As the vessels were left deserted, the insidious flames infiltrated the basement of the lighthouse, extracting body after body. Each individual bore the remnants of a frozen fear imparted by Zus, turning those hundreds, into thousands.
Whispers of the Void, an ethereal snare,
Breathe life into the cosmic nightmare.
Limbs of flesh, veins of dread,
A tree of horrors, in darkness bred.
The wails of agony echoed through the air as everything and everyone merged into the tree. It was a gruesome sight, and as Azrel witnessed his parents lifted by the flames, a small yelp escaped him, catching the attention of Zus and Nix.
"What's the matter, sport?" Zus inquired. "Was that your mum? Point her out, and I'll guide you to her." Zus maneuvered Azrel, scanning for any signs of distress. Once he identified the source, he kept Azrel in place, ensuring he witnessed the unfolding tragedy.
As the abyss gazes with silent glee,
Their creation, for all to see.
A tapestry of suffering, twisted and vile,
The Void-bound Tree, a haunting guile.
The arcane energy crackled in the air, a symphony of power blending with the heart-wrenching cries and anguish of the victims as they twisted and contorted into the tree. The bark formed with the thick husks of the Lycans, their fur molding into an upright position, giving the base of the tree a furry appearance. It stretched their skin, extending the fur upward, morphing and molding the enormous tree into the sky. Flames dragged more bodies from the ship and the lighthouse, feeding the insatiable growth of the tree.
As it spiraled into existence, Azrel's family was torn apart, flesh melding into one another, species merging in a grotesque dance of transformation. Elf and Lycan, Human and Elf, Lycan and Human - all became one in the throes of agony. The cries echoed relentlessly, and Azrel had long closed his eyes, unable to bear the nightmarish spectacle. Yet, Zus held him upright, shaking him in a futile attempt to force his eyes open.
"Look, child," Nix urged. "Witness what they are creating for me, all in exchange for a few words that will control my daughter."
Nix advanced, stepping onto the roots and pressing her feet onto the distorted bodies of Sidra. She stumbled slightly as she climbed the mound of flesh, her remaining fingers digging into the fleshy bark. The flames continued their relentless pull, dragging more bodies into the twisted masterpiece. Nix quickened her pace, eager to enter, where she nestled down and began to expand her Void Domain, preparing for rest and healing.
From inside, she called out, "Once she steps foot on the island, use the tree as an echo, and say the words, 'Mine'a'flelta.' Then, Maeve is all yours. But a word of caution... she's a bit of a bitch."
What Azrel witnessed shook him to the core, a life-altering horror that etched itself into the very fabric of his being. It wasn't merely the loss of his family and friends unfolding before his eyes; it was the harrowing tableau of strangers intermingled with familiar faces, all succumbing to a fate that reduced them to symphonies of agony and despair. He felt their emotions, a cacophony of suffering, and the air was thick with the scent of their collective anguish. Amidst the cries, a haunting plea emerged, "Please, just kill us."
Luna had unfurled the scroll at the top of the Taurean Village Lighthouse, and at the utterance of the first word, a black magic circle sprawled so vast that it nearly reached the small city of Bryklin to the south. It encircled the harbor, the remaining ships, and extended a bit beyond, covering such a broad expanse and tapping into so much mana that Luna, in response, dropped to her knees. She teetered on the edge of a complete collapse, struggling to regain her composure.
Sol, keenly observant, noticed the black flames surrounding the etching beginning to dim. She raised her eyes to the apex of the lighthouse. Positioned at the bottom with Zus, holding Azrel and the lifeless bodies beside them, Sol swiftly seized a corpse and, with the same remarkable speed as before, ascended the stairs. She assisted Luna to her feet, but the spell had exacted a toll too great. Sol pulled the headless cadaver closer and began extracting marrow with swift determination. Placing Luna's weakened face in close proximity, Sol pressed her lips against hers, feeding her the marrow in a manner reminiscent of a bird nurturing its hatchlings. She repeated the action several times until Luna's eyes fluttered open, and a heartfelt "thank you" escaped her lips.
Sol nodded, aiding Luna to stand. Together, they resumed reciting the enchantment from the scroll.
In the shadows where darkness reigns,
Beneath the boughs where silence feigns.
From elven grace and lycan might,
And human spirit, lost in the night.
The four bodies next to Zus levitated, and shortly thereafter, the corpses from the initial ship followed suit. They congregated near the roots Luna had previously arranged, seamlessly merging into the flesh of the other bodies. Their limbs twisted and contorted until they were blended with the rest, a transformation executed with an unsettling ease.
Voided roots entwine, a dance so obscure,
Flesh and bark, an unholy allure.
Sacrifice of life, a macabre symphony,
Binding souls to eternal agony.
Azrel's horror intensified as he witnessed his brother being twisted into a spiral and folded into the roots of flesh. Following suit, more ascended from the ground, morphing into the roots with an eerie grace. Their eyes liquefied into sockets, releasing arcane energy that permeated the air with a palpable intensity.
In the cauldron of emptiness, let it brew,
Moonlight's sorrow, stars askew.
A grotesque creation, born of despair,
A haunting tree in the realm of nightmare.
The anchored ships began to succumb to the enchantment's effects. The black flames of the magic circle seized the vessels, igniting the wood and liquefying the metal. More significantly, they extended their grasp to every soul on board, resembling the tentacles of a kraken as they forcefully yanked patrons from the decks. They crashed into the hulls, wrenching those who were still preparing for landfall.
The flames continued their relentless extraction, one by one, ten by ten, hundreds by hundreds, emptying the ships of their occupants. As the vessels were left deserted, the insidious flames infiltrated the basement of the lighthouse, extracting body after body. Each individual bore the remnants of a frozen fear imparted by Zus, turning those hundreds, into thousands.
Whispers of the Void, an ethereal snare,
Breathe life into the cosmic nightmare.
Limbs of flesh, veins of dread,
A tree of horrors, in darkness bred.
The wails of agony echoed through the air as everything and everyone merged into the tree. It was a gruesome sight, and as Azrel witnessed his parents lifted by the flames, a small yelp escaped him, catching the attention of Zus and Nix.
"What's the matter, sport?" Zus inquired. "Was that your mum? Point her out, and I'll guide you to her." Zus maneuvered Azrel, scanning for any signs of distress. Once he identified the source, he kept Azrel in place, ensuring he witnessed the unfolding tragedy.
As the abyss gazes with silent glee,
Their creation, for all to see.
A tapestry of suffering, twisted and vile,
The Void-bound Tree, a haunting guile.
The arcane energy crackled in the air, a symphony of power blending with the heart-wrenching cries and anguish of the victims as they twisted and contorted into the tree. The bark formed with the thick husks of the Lycans, their fur molding into an upright position, giving the base of the tree a furry appearance. It stretched their skin, extending the fur upward, morphing and molding the enormous tree into the sky. Flames dragged more bodies from the ship and the lighthouse, feeding the insatiable growth of the tree.
As it spiraled into existence, Azrel's family was torn apart, flesh melding into one another, species merging in a grotesque dance of transformation. Elf and Lycan, Human and Elf, Lycan and Human - all became one in the throes of agony. The cries echoed relentlessly, and Azrel had long closed his eyes, unable to bear the nightmarish spectacle. Yet, Zus held him upright, shaking him in a futile attempt to force his eyes open.
"Look, child," Nix urged. "Witness what they are creating for me, all in exchange for a few words that will control my daughter."
Nix advanced, stepping onto the roots and pressing her feet onto the distorted bodies of Sidra. She stumbled slightly as she climbed the mound of flesh, her remaining fingers digging into the fleshy bark. The flames continued their relentless pull, dragging more bodies into the twisted masterpiece. Nix quickened her pace, eager to enter, where she nestled down and began to expand her Void Domain, preparing for rest and healing.
From inside, she called out, "Once she steps foot on the island, use the tree as an echo, and say the words, 'Mine'a'flelta.' Then, Maeve is all yours. But a word of caution... she's a bit of a bitch."
