"I was wondering how long it would take you to beat the first floor." Jarren chuckled as he went away with the artifact in his hands. Still he had yet to reveal his face to her which subtly unnerved her. "What is the mask about?" Her question met with momentary silence as Jarren finally bothered to look at the figure behind him.
His serpentine smile present that now felt like an ornament she was sure he would gift her.
*Whoosh*
The mask flashed in his hand and without a second thought he threw it into the distance of the void. "It was meant to help you clear the floor however I had yet to work it out fully given that Callista doesn't want any overpowered trinkets this early on." Gritting her teeth, she wanted to land a punch on his face before her attention drifted to the mask.
*Boom*
A figure emerged out of the mask, it's body a shade of black that she couldn't believe and the crow that had been feasting the giant seated on the throne took note of this. In a flash the two titans began a clash however Jarren remained entranced with the artifact in his hands.
She had a multitude of questions in her mind however knowing how Jarren was, she chose to keep them. The wraith, a being constituted of nothingness clashed with Jarren's crystalline crow, the fight lasting a few minutes before a victor was decided.
The wraith had it's piercing pitch white eyes staring at Lyssara as a smile remained plastered on it's face. The crow flew the body next to that of the king on the throne and began it's feast. "Callista didn't tell just how hungry this thing would be." Jarren finally spoke, his words tearing through the silence that had refused to melt.
"Just what is that?!" She finally mustered the courage to ask. "A pet from my beloved, however I'm still not too sure whether I should keep it or not. Maybe I can gift it to you." His tone teasing that made her brows furrow. "It...would be best for you to keep it. After all it was you who was given the gift. A game of horrors was something she was sure that she would barely last in.
Jarren shifted his attention back to what he was focusing on before gesturing it to Lyssara. "Try it." A faint playful edge laced his words followed with a smile that failed to reach his ears. It was another mask, however this time it wasn't black and white but rather gold with smooth edges, a refined craftsmanship to it and a teasing smile about it.
Her hands however didn't reach for his gift. "I don't want it." Her voice low however Jarren rather than offended merely chilled it off. "Oh, well then it would seem that I killed this fodder for no good reason." His gaze drifting back to the king that had his face now eaten off.
His insides a small world that hummed with power and a woeful melancholy wrapped around his figure that brought a tear to Lyssara's eye. She wasn't sure what overcame her but endless dread overcame her the more she glanced at the fallen titan. "But I'm sure that she'll be far more appreciative than you."
His words breaking her mental breakdown jolting her back to the oblivion that the two were in. "Why do you the things that you do?" Her question taking Jarren by surprise who was now taking a chunk of the jagged face and began his work. "What do you think? Is it out of malice? Maybe it could be my deep desire to connect with lesser beings or something else entirely."
She paused, her eyes landing on his back as he brought a small chisel and began his work before drifting to the golden mask now propped to the side of the massive throne that towered far above the two. Her reach was filled with hesitance, her guard up given her last experience. "I said that it would be too soon for you to be out of them game, you should have more faith with me."
His chuckle making her skin crawl and yet she had no other means than to take his words. After all what was she in the face of Jarren should he choose to end her life at the moment. "I'm sure that it's sadism." Her voice hoarse that elicited a faint laugh from Jarren. "Wrong but I'm sure you'll get it eventually."
She remained entranced with his hands that began to carve a bow that glistened giving promises of eternal power. Siphoning the blood of the fallen horror into a piece of string, his work of the bow was coming to life however there were still much for him to do.
"Go grab the estoc over there, it would seem that you have a knack for the thing." His words making her eyes drift to the side where a tuck remained propped, it's blade glowing gold that far superseded the one in her hands. Unlike the mask, she wasn't as hesitant either this as he grabbed it. The sword hummed as if acknowledging her.
*Whoosh*
A casual swing from the blade formed a small arc of flames. It was then that she took a closer look at the tuck, the fine carvings at the hilt, the glimmering blade and dazzled in the white expanse.
"Ah!" She cried letting of the blade as a small streak if blood trailed form her palms. He gave a small laugh that irked her. "What was that ?!" She asked with her estoc drawing her blood akin to a sponge. "It has to take a sample of your blood to recognize you." His hands making a curve of the bow that was near completion.
She grabbed the hilt once more, this time the estoc was far lighter than before as it gave a faint low hum. "Do you ever feel any form of remorse with those you kill?" She randomly shot up placing her estoc on her waist. "They're nothing more than twigs in my way, some snap, some I can take and use as swords and others can be used to fan the flames."
She paused, her mind ready with another question. "Callista, do you really love her or see her as another twig for your collection of sticks." The crow paused, as if part of the conversation. "What difference would it be if I said that she was above the rest, after all there have been others just like her." A shiver ran down her spine hearing this.
'If she isn't safe then is anyone truly worth your gaze?' She couldn't help but wonder. "There are flowers amidst the sticks. There are worms, ants, flies and many others. She's a flower that in spring is a catch but time won't last forever in spring, there are other seasons as well." His words further making her wary of him.
"...But then again she could be more than just a flower, after all she could be the sun above it all. Generous to those below, a cruel master in summer and winter." He chuckled as the chisel in his hands ceased to be. He admired the bow, it's size equivalent to his upper torso.
Drawing it back and loading with an arrow from the corpse, he shot out a beam of light that vaporized the wraith that was in Lyssara's mask completely. "Needs some tweaking." He muttered as he followed this with a snap of his fingers. The scene once more and this time rather she was thrust back to the real world. However rather than the green expanse she was last in, she was puzzled to find herself in a carriage.
Looking through the window, she could see the world outside lazily pass her. The sun had began to set, coating the sky in hues of orange and gold. "This should be fitting." Jarren's voice echoed from the coach seat as the carriage came to a stop not that far from the main road. It was then that she realized that the two were deep inside a forest, the faint sounds and skitters of beasts filling her ears.
Making his way to the back, he grabbed the tent and began to set it up, his actions defying the monster that resided beneath. Before Lyssara could get out of the carriage, something caught her eye that drew her in. A small book, it's cover mundane however shuffling through the pages, only a single page was written.
"Hey Lyssara, could you give me a hand?" Jarren's voice forcing her to stash it in her inventory and making her alight.
...
The fire crackled in the night lighting up the forest and yet neither seemed bothered of what the night would bring. Jarren had some meat skewed and cooking, a mouthwatering aroma of stew boiling next to it. Still even as he served the two, the silence lingered in the air like a guest that refused to leave.
"Who is the bow for?" She finally broke through the silence. Done with his meal, he gave his response,his tone laced with weariness. "It's for someone you should come to favor, but I can't be for certain the relationship between the two of you." She clicked her tongue, fed up with his responses.
"I'll wait then." And with that she made her way to the carriage while he planned on sleeping outside in the tent he had perched up. The flames were snuffed out before silence filled the air once more. Lyssara however her mind locked with the book as she got to read the page that had been on her mind.
[The Ladies That Dance Around Me]
{Callista}
The girl who laughs at ruin,
Dancing where angels choke on dust.
Her joy is an ember that mocks the dark,
A flame that refuses to learn fear.
She smiles as if the world were kind,
And for a heartbeat, it almost is.
Every jest she throws, every spark she breathes,
Is defiance dressed in silk and laughter.
Yet when her laughter fades,
The silence aches like loss,
As though the universe forgot.
What warmth sounded like.
...
{Clomere}
She wears cruelty like a crown of iron,
Tempered by pain and precision.
Her words cut softer than blades,
But deeper, always deeper.
She teaches mercy by destroying it,
Turns affection into anatomy.
Love, to her prey, is a study in dissection,
The heart opened just to prove it beats.
She is honesty made monstrous,
And yet…
There's beauty in how unflinching she is.
...
{Kaelin}
The dreamer among ruins,
A child's smile in a graveyard of stars.
She hums when the world forgets to,
Her eyes bright enough to shame the dawn.
She does not see the horror.
Or perhaps she chooses not to.
Ignorance, her quiet rebellion.
In her light, I am reminded
Of what it means to be human.
But light burns too,
And innocence never outlives the truth.
...
{Lyssara}
Curiosity wears her skin like fire.
She reaches where others recoil,
Peels back the veil just to see
If the abyss still breathes beneath.
There is hunger in her questions,
A storm disguised as wonder.
She looks at me as though,
She might find her answers behind my grin.
If she ever does…
I'm sure she'll stop asking.
And I hesitate what she'll become
When she does.
...
{Crimson}
The servant of darkness who refused to kneel,
Born to obey, yet ever defying.
She is will that outgrew heaven,
Her devotion sharpened to a blade.
Her will bleeds gold and crimson.
She does not pray, she remembers,
Even gods would falter under her gaze.
If I were divine, I'd envy her courage to remain mortal.
...
She remained lost with the piece of text that had graced her eyes. Her mind lost with what to make of what she had just read. Recalling what Jarren wrote of her, her need to know more about Jarren began to waver. 'You remind me of my former self.' His words at the time a jest now felt sharp, making her wonder whether a monster like Jarren was once normal like her.
'If so then what could he have done to be the horror that he is.' Her mind raced for answers and yet she knew where to look, the question was whether she had the courage to ask Jarren for the truth.