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Like mist sprites finding way at the marsh
Fogged up at first but immediately starge
Talking about Sanguin and Heshapes fully
Sharing smiles and laughter in stories merrily
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On pastel days, they played soldiers and thieves
Travel in greave to own den at Orlorn plains
Chasing and rolling happily in muddy stain
Friendship promised without hate did conceive
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Alas, the days as fairies to May merry did not last
Diligence in status separated their play
But Dramescula’s threat glues their past
And Yralla’s silence assures their stay
Leaving their days unseparated despite parting challenges they faced
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The chamber falls silent, the weight of centuries hanging in the air as Yralla and Dramescula regard each other across the field of blood and torn bodies. Sol's heart races, her mind reeling as she reaches out to Thean, a desperate plea in her eyes. But Dramescula keeps her from moving with her right leg—rooted itself to the ground.
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"So much for prophecies" Dramescula purrs, her voice dripping with malice. "Stop scuffling around child,"
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But Sol shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears as she stares at the ruined remains of her friend. "No," she whispers, her voice barely audibles over the pounding of her heart. "Thean has come because she wants to save me. I don’t care what I said before, I just want to go to her.”
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“Such theatrics, haha” Dramescula's laughter echoes through the chamber, a mocking counterpoint to Sol's anguish. Her eye turns to attention to Hubert, power lashing out to crush the boy where he stands. But to her shock and fury, nothing happens. Hubert remains unharmed, protected by the pulsing threads of energy that surround him.
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And then, before their eyes, Thean's body reforms, knitting itself back together in a display of power that defies comprehension. She stands before them, whole and unbroken, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. "Thank you, Hubert," she says, her voice echoing with the weight of ages. "For gathering the fallen, for bringing them to me. But now, you must go. This battle is not yours to fight."
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Hubert hesitates, his eyes flickering between Thean and the monstrous form of Sol and Dramescula. "I want to help," he says, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and determination. "I cannot leave you to face this alone."
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But Yralla shakes her head, a sad smile playing across Thean's lips. "Indeed, you will not leave me. You and your mates will not leave me...remember what I said back at the fort? All the Whiteblood knights will die today, on this hour before I can let Dramescula merge with Sol."
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Hubert nods, his eyes filling with tears as the shudders chokes him up. His shadow growing to hug him.
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“Don’t fret, boy” caressing Hubert’s cheeks, “It will be painless, and afterwards, freeing. Remind your mates at Necroxia to hope for the Lady Goddess.” Gently holding onto Hubert’s chin and webs of silky yellow light nerves from his chin to cover his face and entire body. “It will feel just like the morning sunrise greeting you for another day.”
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And it did, Hubert closes his eyes as his entire body is slithered with the silky lines. Warm on all sides of his body before that same warmth slowly dies down as the darkness of his eye sockets opens up in front of a giant green flame. The last silk of light fading from his veins, leaving a message written on his palm to find his mates and convene with the Lady Goddess.
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Back at the cave, Dramescula's laughter fills the air metallic and sweet to her tongue, a grating sound that sets Sol's teeth on edge. "And she saved him~ You are quite the angel with the title of a Count Mother," she mocks, her crimson eyes blazing with a twisted glee.
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“Them” Yralla says as the silky bands of light extends out to the pile of dead bodies, smiling as she hears a battalion of footsteps.
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A group of cultists emerge from the shadows, their eyes wide with religious fervor as they chant her name. "Yralla! O' Yralla! We have found you---” Their breath abruptly halting at the sight of the paleness and face cut smile of Dramescula, “T-Take us, mold us, make us one with your divine essence!"
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Yralla chuckles, a sound that sends shivers down Sol's spine. "Do you see, Dramescula?" she says, her voice filled with a quiet strength. "The love of my children, freely given. Not forced, not coerced, but offered up as a gift, a sacrifice born of devotion and faith."
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The cultists fall to their knees, their bodies dissolving into silky lines of light that covers them like additional nerves, flowing inward to the ends of Thean’s mouth. Mingling with the fallen bodies of the Whiteblood Knights and monsters. Thean’s body begins to glow, her flesh transforming into a being of pure, radiant energy and warmth.
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Dramescula hisses, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the sight of her ancient foe. "You deny your children their full potential," she spits, her voice dripping with venom. "You hold them back, limit their power for the sake of what---favor for the Gods? "
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But Yralla merely shakes her head, a look of infinite sadness crossing her features. "I, try to keep them safe as possible. Giving them the immortality on my behalf. Until a curse can free me from it, and they will finally be able to bear offsprings of their own."
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Dramescula's laughter takes on a bitter edge, a sound that grates against Sol's ears. "I never thought I'd see the day when we would meet again, Yralla, have you heard of Izendon? "
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Yralla nods, “And I have no interest of Count Fathers” her eyes fixing on Sol's face. "I tell you again, my I am really proud of my dear daughter Thean, pleaded with me, you know. Begged me to find a way to save her friend, to drive you out and restore Sol to herself. She never gave up hope, even when all seemed lost."
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Sol's heart clenches, a wave of guilt and shame washing over her at the thought of Thean's unwavering faith. She opens her mouth to speak, to beg for forgiveness, but Dramescula's voice cuts through the air like a knife.
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"Pretty words, Yralla, but they mean nothing. Sol is mine, now and forever. She will never be free of me, never know a moment's peace as long as I dwell within her."
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But Yralla's gaze remains fixed on Sol, her voice soft and gentle as she speaks. "Is that what you want, Sol? To be a slave to Dramescula's will, a prisoner in your own body? Or do you want to be with Thean again, to feel the warmth of her friendship, the love that you share?"
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Sol hesitates, her mind torn between the seductive pull of Dramescula's power and the aching longing for Thean's presence. She thinks of the Whiteblood Knights, of the lives she took in her madness and despair. "Thean will hate me," she whispers, her voice barely audibles over the pounding of her heart. "I killed her friends, her family. She'll never forgive me."
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But Yralla shakes her head, a smile playing across her lips. "Thean could never hate you, Sol. And the Whiteblood Knights, they understand. They know that it was Dramescula who drove you to this, not your own will. They forgive you, just as Thean does."
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Sol's heart leaps, a flicker of hope sparking to life in her chest. She takes a deep breath, her voice trembling as she speaks. "I want to go back to Thean. I want to be free of this, of Dramescula's control. Please, Yralla. Help me."
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Dramescula's scream of rage fills the chamber, her teeth sinking into Sol's neck in a frenzy of fury and desperation. But Yralla is faster, her hand lashing out to tap Dramescula's head, burning the monstrous flesh with a touch. Sol's eyes turn black, her hair darkening as the nerves in her face and neck turn a sickly, poisonous hue.
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But Yralla is relentless, her power surging forth to engulf Sol's form. She covers the girl's eyes with one hand, using Zera's ability to stitch her limbs to the ground and paralyze her with Gordon's silent words and hovering light. Dramescula writhes and screams, her form dissolving into a swarm of bats that flutter uselessly against the bonds that hold her.
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"You're a monster, Yralla!" she shrieks, her voice filled with a desperate, animalistic fury. "A cannibal, devouring everything you touch and making it a part of yourself. You're no better than me, no matter how much you pretend otherwise."
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But Yralla merely smiles, her voice calm and measured as she speaks. "The difference between us, Dramescula, is that I give my children a choice. I offer them the chance to become something greater, to transcend the limitations of their mortal flesh. You simply consume, murder, and whore, leaving nothing but blood and rot in your wake with disgusting to no appeal for beauty."
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Dramescula's laughter takes on a manic edge, a sound that sends chills down Sol's spine. "You can't kill me, Yralla. Not without destroying Sol in the process. Is that what you want? To sacrifice an innocent girl for the sake of your own twisted sense of justice?"
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But Yralla shakes her head, her eyes hard and determined as she stares down at Dramescula's writhing form. "I have no intention of killing you, Dramescula. But I will not allow you to continue using Sol as your puppet, your plaything. The Whiteblood Knights and I will put an end to your reign of terror, once and for all."
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Dramescula screams, her form straining against the bonds that hold her as she tries desperately to flee. But Yralla's power is too strong, the light that surrounds her too bright to be denied. She raises her arm, the limb transforming into a blade of pure, radiant energy.
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"I will cut you in half, Dramescula," she says, her voice ringing with a terrible finality. "Send you screaming back to the hell that spawned you, and free Sol from your clutches forever."
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The blade descends, a flash of blinding light that sears Sol's eyes and sends Dramescula's form recoiling in terror. But at the last moment, Yralla pulls back, her gaze fixed on Sol's face.
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"I know you're still in there, Sol," she says, her voice soft and gentle. "Fight her. Push her back, and come back to us. Come back to Thean."
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Sol's eyes flicker, the darkness receding as a flicker of recognition sparks to life in their depths. She gasps, her body shuddering as she strains against Dramescula's control. "I want to live," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. "I want to be with Thean again. Please, Yralla. Help me."
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Yralla nods, her eyes filled with a fierce determination as she turns her attention back to Dramescula's writhing form. "You're losing control, Dramescula," she says, her voice ringing with a quiet strength. "Sol is fighting you, pushing you back with every passing moment. You can't keep her restrained forever."
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Dramescula snarls, her eyes blazing with a desperate, animal fury. "Then what do you propose, Yralla? Will you kill me, and risk destroying Sol in the process? Or will you try to separate us, knowing that it may very well be impossible?"
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Yralla shakes her head, a sad smile playing across her lips. "Neither, Dramescula. I know that Sol will always be a suitable vessel for your essence, just as she has been in the past. But I also know that there is another way, a path that will allow Sol to regain control of herself while still keeping you contained."
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She reaches out, her hands cupping Sol's face as bands of light begin to flow from her fingertips, entering the girl's eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. The darkness that clings to Sol's form begins to recede, the pale, sickly hue of her skin giving way to a healthy, radiant glow.
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"I will create a cage for you, Dramescula," Yralla says, her voice filled with a quiet determination. "A prison within Sol's mind, where you will be contained and controlled. She will be the master of her own fate once more, while still keeping watch over the piece of you that dwells within her."
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Dramescula's laughter fills the air, a mocking sound that grates against Sol's ears. "You think it will be that easy, Yralla? That Sol will simply be able to lock me away and forget about me?"
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But Yralla merely smiles, her eyes fixed on Sol's face as the last of the light flows into the girl's body. "It will not be easy, Dramescula. But it will be worth it, for the sake of Sol's freedom and…friendship…that which we also share but twisted”
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As the light fades, Sol's eyes flutter open, her gaze locking with Thean's across the chamber. Tears stream down their faces as they rush towards each other, their arms outstretched in a desperate, joyful embrace.
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"I'm sorry," Sol whispers, her voice choked with emotion as she buries her face in Thean's shoulder. "I'm so sorry for everything, for not being strong enough to resist her. For not listening to you. I should have listened, I should have, and this would have never happened."
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And Thean merely holds her tighter, her voice soft and soothing as she strokes Sol's hair. "It's okay, Sol. I forgive you. I will always forgive you, no matter what. And, no matter still, the future I see leads us to being here. I only directed what was best for us."
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As they cling to each other, the chamber around them begins to fade, the darkness giving way to a soft, gentle light. Yralla watches from a distance, her eyes filled with a quiet satisfaction as she turns to leave, her task complete.
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