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It ended up taking hella longer than I expected. By the time I had gotten down from the frozen north, my whole ass had swollen into something blue and ugly and if it wasn’t for you laughing at me all the goddamn time about it I probably wouldn’t have been so stubborn about chasing the bitch. But I had to. Ass or no ass, I couldn’t just let her roam this plane unchecked. It scared me more knowing she was out there somewhere where I couldn’t see her, and even though I had proven I could hurt her if I were able, that didn’t mean she wasn’t something dangerous stalking the shadows. The plot thickened when I felt a familiar pull that I normally came to dread, but now there was another sensation that replaced it for now, a bizarre one: relief. Pa, I thought, the sensation clear in my gut, and even though all those tangled things I felt about him and his image in my head came rushing back to me, piling on top of each other one by one—I was glad that his power was still evident and that something hadn’t actually happened to him. It was a weak pull, that’s true—but the strangeness of the world was gone and Drolgatha hadn’t actually killed him, the whore. I clenched my sore jaws over the hilt of the glowing blade in my teeth. Sparkmarrow. It was finally pulling itself together and I didn’t even have time to…I ‘unno…really look at the shit. I walked/ran/trotted/whatever on and off for as long as I could, passing into places trying to get green, going passed a land and a herd I wasn’t really sure how to feel about anymore (a mix of regrets, nostalgia, a clash of warring loyalties—). But then something happened, and I don’t know what or why, but… …but it felt off. It…everything did. I can’t even say it was in the air either. It was so intangible, an invisible feeling wafting about, silent and massless and tastelss and odorless. But different, so, so different, all the way down in my bones. Oh, this is nice, I thought sarcastically to myself as the strangeness started crowding around me—in alarming shades of red, as though everything was drenched in blood because of a fight no one wanted to stop. It could’ve been a dangerous place—hell, it probably was. But none of that mattered cuz Pa’s essence was strengthening in my gut which only meant I was getting closer to him—and I swore I heard his voice, all angry and forceful, as though he were stuck fighting something again. I have your sword, Pa, I wanted to scream through a mouthful of badass metal, I have Sparkmarrow, I have it for you, I have it, just wait a second, just wai— I broke through the underbrush, just in time to see a bright, blinding light wink out of existence. I was at the base of a hissing, roaring waterfall, merrily splashing everything and everyone around it with flecks of what looked like blood—and there was my Pa, all soggy and soaked in it, looking like absolute soggy shit, as though he had just got finished fighting in a war. “MMPH!!” I screamed at him, not even thinking of daring to let Sparkmarrow out of my grip if it meant the battle was still on; there were others around, too, being useless and blinking and not even really realizing that a god was in their midst—weakened and bruised and bloody, which was a trip, cuz god’s aren’t supposed to bleed like that. (Unless you’re strong enough to make ‘em.) [ROSKULD kinda sorta maybe discovering the Bloodfalls! :D] |
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