02-19-2019, 05:23 AM
(This post was last modified: 02-19-2019, 05:27 AM by Rowan Finnegan.)
It was a fever dream, Rowan was sure of it; still, she was able to grab a hold of the Source and Channel Air. It made no sense, but there it was. Rowan felt the ecstasy associated with the magic and realized that she did not need to summon the Voodoo Loa to do he bidding to achieve the desired results. With a strained effort, she wove the element of Air and shoved a ball of it into her empty eye socket. The blood was staunched and she tied off the weave, Rowan sighed, relaxing into Vale’s embrace.
“I did it, Vale…” Rowan murmured in a dazed tone, “The Elements listening and I did not need the Loa… Do you see? It no longer bleeds…”
Rowan’s right hand gestured toward her empty eye socket on the left-hand side; indeed, no blood fell from the socket anymore, but it was still a ghastly sight. Pink flesh lined the socket and it was plainly clear to any that would gaze upon the left-hand side of Rowan’s face. She gasped. Despite the ethereal bandage she placed upon her empty socket, Rowan was still feeling the effects of blood loss.
Vale’s face looked down upon Rowan and it morphed, in Rowan’s eyes, into her belated husband. Those hard angles and brown eyes… Rowan’s hand came up to Vale’s chin and stroked it, “Percy… I thought you had died…” Rowan murmured almost to herself, “The King is here. He cannot lose. Another comes to take his place… But he must live… He might kill me… But he must live… His goal is to keep humanity afloat… He will lead us into the 2nd age. Yes. The 2nd age. Percy. I have seen it.”
Rowan started laughing despite herself. She was delirious, looking up at Vale. She gasped and clutched Vale’s wrist, “Armande is the way. He will kill me. But he is the way. He knows…. Oh, he knows… Don’t let him kill me…” Rowan started to weap despite herself, “Don’t let him kill me… He has a weapon… Don’t let him…” She murmured as her eyes closed. Rowan slipped into an unrestful sleep, her head resting in Vale’s lap. She convulsed and shook as visions of the future took hold, although when she would open her eyes, she would remember nothing. “Weap for your salvation. He wields the power of the Gods, though he denies it. Weap for your salvation. He seeks to end me, though he cannot. The White Eye protects me and the Black Eye validates me. Oh, weap for your salvation. The Champion of the Black must not destroy the Champion of the White. One Age dies as another Age rises. The Champion of the White survives and the Champion of the Black falls. So it shall be. Oh, weap for your salvation. This Age dies and the next shall flourish, although we may cry. Remain steadfast, for the strong shall protect the weak. Remain steadfast, Black Eye. The Champion of the Black holds doubt in his heart. The Champion of the Black holds doubt in his heart. Oh. Weap for your salvation.”
Foam began to rise from Rowan’s mouth as her remaining Eye bulged and her hand clasped Vales, clutching it and crushing it as if the light of the Universe depended on it.
“I did it, Vale…” Rowan murmured in a dazed tone, “The Elements listening and I did not need the Loa… Do you see? It no longer bleeds…”
Rowan’s right hand gestured toward her empty eye socket on the left-hand side; indeed, no blood fell from the socket anymore, but it was still a ghastly sight. Pink flesh lined the socket and it was plainly clear to any that would gaze upon the left-hand side of Rowan’s face. She gasped. Despite the ethereal bandage she placed upon her empty socket, Rowan was still feeling the effects of blood loss.
Vale’s face looked down upon Rowan and it morphed, in Rowan’s eyes, into her belated husband. Those hard angles and brown eyes… Rowan’s hand came up to Vale’s chin and stroked it, “Percy… I thought you had died…” Rowan murmured almost to herself, “The King is here. He cannot lose. Another comes to take his place… But he must live… He might kill me… But he must live… His goal is to keep humanity afloat… He will lead us into the 2nd age. Yes. The 2nd age. Percy. I have seen it.”
Rowan started laughing despite herself. She was delirious, looking up at Vale. She gasped and clutched Vale’s wrist, “Armande is the way. He will kill me. But he is the way. He knows…. Oh, he knows… Don’t let him kill me…” Rowan started to weap despite herself, “Don’t let him kill me… He has a weapon… Don’t let him…” She murmured as her eyes closed. Rowan slipped into an unrestful sleep, her head resting in Vale’s lap. She convulsed and shook as visions of the future took hold, although when she would open her eyes, she would remember nothing. “Weap for your salvation. He wields the power of the Gods, though he denies it. Weap for your salvation. He seeks to end me, though he cannot. The White Eye protects me and the Black Eye validates me. Oh, weap for your salvation. The Champion of the Black must not destroy the Champion of the White. One Age dies as another Age rises. The Champion of the White survives and the Champion of the Black falls. So it shall be. Oh, weap for your salvation. This Age dies and the next shall flourish, although we may cry. Remain steadfast, for the strong shall protect the weak. Remain steadfast, Black Eye. The Champion of the Black holds doubt in his heart. The Champion of the Black holds doubt in his heart. Oh. Weap for your salvation.”
Foam began to rise from Rowan’s mouth as her remaining Eye bulged and her hand clasped Vales, clutching it and crushing it as if the light of the Universe depended on it.