username. aloe~

[ Dar-ee-ah ]
rumor. It was early December when it happened. The streets were cold and barren of their usual bustling crowd. The merchants along the road had long since packed up there stands; leaving nothing but the remnants of life behind them. Not even the beggars remained, for they too were weary of this place. The wind picked up and died down rhythmically, acting as mother nature’s corrupted lungs. Stray flyers glided across the crumbling cobblestones of the road, catching themselves up on the splintered remains of a door, before drifting back down to the soiled earth. The king had banned all entry there after the incident, but there was no doubt that it would remain vacant had he not. It was a horrific scene, truly. Scorch marks trailed along the houses and establishments along the road, glass and wooden frames of windows and doors scattered along the now busted cobblestones. Bricks from buildings that once stood tall now lay destroyed along the street, the buildings they once belonged to now nothing but a skeleton of crumbled stone. In the center of it all stands the well-house, quite strangely completely untouched. In ink black charcoal spirals a strange star surrounding the small building. Blood red symbols dance around the exterior of the star, standing out starkly against the dull grey stone. A giant scorch mark stretches out from the center of the star, it’s blaze reaching to the buildings several feet away. It happened late in the night, the full moon casting haunting shadows through the street. Bystanders tell the story of a strange looking woman speaking in toungues; a language they say is like nothing they’ve ever heard. They say she stood at the edge of the center of the star, arms lifted out to her sides. They say her mismatched eyes glowed in two different shades, one of the brightest gold and the other of the darkest night. Her mouth snapped shut, cutting off the chanting. The quiet that followed was almost deafening. Suddenly, there were flashes of light all around the street, and to the townsfolk’s horror, eyes began to blink themselves into exsistence. They were plastered onto buildings, on the cobblestones that made up the street, even on the woman’s scarf before them. The silence erupted into noise as a figure, draped in fire, appeared before the woman. The witnesses all had differing accounts of what this creature looked like, although almost all of them recalled that it had an unusual amount of eyes. The creature smiled, and opened its mouth to speak the same strange language the woman had been speaking prior. She spoke back, and they seemed to converse back and forth. And then they went quiet. The woman turned her attention towards the houses on the road, gaze cold and unforgiving. She spoke again, but this time, say the citizens, she spoke in English. They all strangely recall that she said roughly the same thing, “They’re yours.” That’s when the creature broke from the star, a cloak of fire following it. It left destruction in its path, a fiery ball of rage and fury. The citizens took cover, some trying to take on the monster. Their fates were not good ones. When the creature was finished, it joined the woman once again. They talked back and forth, before the creature materialized in an inferno, disappearing completely. The eyes gazing through the dark of the night gave one last blink before they, too disappeared. The citizens say the woman carefully overstepped the fires, calmly making her way down the now destroyed row of houses and businesses, until turning the corner and disappearing completely. This part of the rumor is where every individual’s story conjoined; because every single person on that street said the same thing. As the woman passed, they could all swear that they saw her head scarf watching them. Sketches of the horrifying ‘Witch of Eyes’ were plastered all around the kingdom, in the hopes that someone would find this sorceress and take care of her for good. The only parts of the black and white sketches that was in color was her eyes, and the people of the kingdom can’t help but notice that it looks like the poster’s eyes follow as someone walks by.
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what actually happened. A loud crashing noise woke the man from his slumber, sending him flying forward upright. He scrambled for his sword, only to find a paw kicking it several feet to the side of his makeshift fire pit. He leapt to his paws, flinging his arms up to protect his face. Dariyah whirled her axe around, smacking the narrow hilt across the man’s torso. He cried out as he fell to the ground, struggling against the weight of her powerful paw planted deeply into his chest. “Where is it?” Dariyah snarled through bared teeth, her muzzle curling into a grimace. “I don’t have it.” The man spat at her, reaching his paws around her ankle with sharp claws. She was mostly unaffected, although he knew she would be. Dariyah pressed harder into his chest, mismatched eyes narrowing as the man yelped. She angled her axe down, resting the blade below his chin. “Where. Is. It.” Dariyah snarled each word, the rage apparent in her voice. “Fine!” He mumbled out, fumbling with the ribbon around her ankle. “It’s in the kingdom! In this small row of shops n’ stuff. You just have to pop into the old lady’s Tarrot Shop. She’s blind, you just have to be quiet to take it.” Dariyah stood back upright, bringing her paw off of his chest. He huffed, flipping over on his belly and struggling to stand. She grinned at him, twisting her axe back into its pouch on her belt. “Thank you for the info! I’ll make sure to tell your master who I have to thank for finding him.” The man snarled, eyes filled with rage. Dariyah began the long trek towards the dim lights of the Kingdom in the distance, the sky above the vast desert turning blood red and purple.
-
Dariyah arived in the Kingdom just as the sun had completely set, the sky missing all signs of life. The streets were quiet and nearly vacant, tall buildings casting long shadows down the rows of houses. Dariyah slunk down the street, hugging closely to the wall. She rounded a corner, and then another, before she found a central row of shops and houses. Dim light spilled from the windows like water, the street quiet except for soft music playing from the main source of light on the street. The light belonged to a small building, it’s door slung open and barely hanging on by the hinges. A record player stood by the door, it’s needle scraping against the record and playing a scratchy song. Dariyah made her way across the street, pausing to read the wooden sign nailed loosely above the door: “Ms. Posh’s Tarrot Shop”. Dariyah slowly craned her neck, stepping completely through the door and scanning the small shop. It was dimly lit with candles, wax dripping down the counters and bookshelves littered around the room. Strange plants and statues surrounded the tall wooden counter, skulls of various animals hanging from strings on the ceiling. Dariyah shuffled around the messy store, jumping in surprise as a curtain made of beads rattled across the store. An old woman appeared, smiling slowly at her. “Hello dear. Help yourself to whatever you’d like.” The kalon’s voice was strangely young sounding, as if it didn’t belong to her. “Well, I was told I could find something of importance here. Do you have any books with.. uh-“ “Eyes?” Ms. Posh smiled again, ducking behind the counter. Rustling noises came from beneath, until she emerged again; this time with a thick leather-bound book. She set it on the table, blowing the dust from its cover. “Here it is. The Book of Vision.” Dariyah smiled, digging out her pouch of coins. She looked up as Ms. Posh loudly slid the book over, a strange look on her face. “Take it. But please be careful. Bad things can come from that book.” Dariyah nodded, wrapping her paws around the book and turning to walk out the door. A rattling noise stopped her, and as she turned, so did the skulls hanging from the ceiling. Dariyah passed it off as wind, but she knew very well that it was completely windless that night.
-
Dariyah shifted through her belongings, grabbing another piece of charcoal. She bent back down, sketching her last few lines on the ground. Stepping back, Dariyah looked her work over. A perfect star had taken place on the cobblestones, swirling symbols surrounding the star. She opened the book, beginning to chant in a different language. The wind began to pick up around her, her chanting growing louder and louder. Dariyah’s eyes flowed brightly in the night, paws raised out to her sides. A loud flash of fiery red light appeared in the center of the star, before dimming down to a low burn. Dariyah looked up from the book, grimacing at the creature in front of her. “Hello again, Dariyah. It’s been awhile.” The creature smiled, it’s fangs glowing in the inky blackness of the street around them. “Abbadon.. you’re back again.” Abbadon laughed, fire cascading around his tall horns. “Now Dariyah, you know I can’t get back into this realm. Well, not without help. It’s simply been my followers doing things for me.” Dariyah snarled, eyes burning. “The curses need to stop. The kalons in this demension don’t deserve to be tortured by your-“ “Vision spells?” “It that’s what you want to call them.” Abbadon grinned again, more flames dancing around him. “Eyes are a very powerful thing, Dariyah. They’re the windows into the soul. They can tell you amazing stories, and the most amazing lies.” Dariyah sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Look, you need to leave this dimension, and call off your followers.” She turned back, noticing the kalons along the street watching their conversation, which of course they probably couldn’t understand because of Abbadon’s language. “They’re not yours to take.” Abbadon scowled, the fire floating around his legs picking up pace, turning into a raging flame. “You think your puny star can keep me hostage? I’m never going to stop, until every last one of these mortals know what it’s like to be left in the dark.” Abbadon blew apart the star, flying from the center of the street in a whirlwind of fire. He left destruction in his path, eyes blinking themselves to life. Dariyah launched herself behind the fountain, waiting for the noise to die down before she slowly rose herself onto shaky paws. The street was in tatters, flames sprouting everywhere. She could hear screams and yells from the distance, and see running figures. She growled under her breath, carefully picking up the book and making her way down the street. She mumbled under her breath, flipping through the book. She felt her head scarf blink itself into exsistence, and turned the corner sharply. She paused, looking around the barren side street, before snapping her fingers and materiaizinng into the shadows.
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