Nothing but clear sky and the low hum of altitude surrounded her.
The weight of the helmet she had pulled from its perch atop a marble mold now rested in her hands, its golden curves glinting against the sunlight beaming brightly from its point high above. Though it had been some time and--truth be told--she had never wanted to become familiar with said weight yet again, she found herself finding comfort in it now. Many actions well beyond her control had brought her here, but this last action would be her choice.
And she was ready to make it.
As her wild red mane fluttered in the charged air, she continued to stare down at the chaotic mass of storm clouds blocking her view of the destructive terror going on below it on the surface of Humanity's Earthly terrain. Through the howling wind, crackling lightening and deep rumbling thunder were the heart heavy tones of sirens wailing and buildings crumbling. It was a beckoning she had long ago swore to ignore, to leave behind the troubles of humans and all of their self inflicted wounds.
But this was different.
This wound carved upon their world was caused by her own.
With one last parting glance to the bare towering stone pillars around her, a chilling reminder that she was but a few of the last of her kind, she donned her helmet and jumped.
As a child she had often envied the birds surrounding her home world, marveled how they could leap head first and fall like stones only to soar when they were ready to let the wind carry them. When she had come of age and had found her calling in the art of fighting, she had chosen to emulate the magnificent creatures. Her leather cuirass, which wrapped snuggly around her frame, was woven with feathers of one of the most sacred birds of her land. Known for its gentle maternal nature but fierce prey behavior, the Shahbaz would only molt while resting in the highlands too steep for any mortal to reach. As part of her right of passage, she had traveled to the fabled peaks and returned with the offerings left behind by the great predator--having it weaved with her armor so to further protect herself with the magic stored within the soft downy feathers.
Now, as she fell, much like the birds she loved, the grey and white feathers danced violently with the speed of her Descent--the tips almost sizzling as she pierced through the storm cloud and became one with the hard pounding raindrops assaulting the distant ground below.
Colors streaked by her in painted droplets, blues, browns and muddy grays rapidly transitioning to fiery reds, oranges, yellows and billowing black as she closed in on the echoing sirens and flashing lights.
Yet she did not yield.
Even as she whizzed past despairing cries of steel melting and crumbling under the weight of their torn infrastructure, past the ash drifting on the storm winds and mingling with the rain, past the people racing to save those they could and mourning over those they could not--past the horror of what had transpired and into the massive crater of darkness that punched through it all.
Here, as she continued down, the sounds and colors faded away to nothingness. The warm air and wet rain, the rancid stench of destruction and death all drifted from her and left her descending in a void of only herself. A chill settled on her skin the further she fell but it mattered not to her for it only mirrored the cold ache in her soul that made it so easy for her to drop so far and so heavy.
She knew it would only be a matter of time before she reached the basin of this abyss, this unnatural cavern chiseled by a soul that no longer pulsed with emotions beyond selfish desires. In the distance she could see a pin prick of light slowly widening like a mouth to the mythical hell of humans, waiting to devourer her in its raging flames, and she only fell harder.
Gravity, though, reached her first as she approached the flickering growing light, her body slowly turning, pushing her back and decreasing the speed of her descent until her boots hovered but mere feet above heated ground near a flowing river of molten core. The hairs on her quickly drying skin raised in alertness as her eyes observed the hollow earth around her and she felt his presence before he stepped from the shadows swallowing the edges of her vision and into her line of sight.
"Hello mother," he rasped, his face hidden behind a black mask painted with white streaks that formed a monkey's skull--his eyes concealed by black goggles, leaving him empty to her senses.
"What have you done, Kek hanu?"
The muscular man hidden by his dark fitted clothes, the one she had called son from the day she had taken him in, simply shrugged.
"I shall not ask again. What have you done?" she bellowed, her sharp voice booming in hidden tunnels around them.
"I am only playing," he replied, though--even as she could not see his face or his eyes--she heard his monkey like laughter escape after his words, and she knew the lies that his face held.
"We do not play with mortals," her commanding tone cracked, but the whip of her words fell short upon his deaf ears.
He cocked his head, so much like his simian descent, and questioned childishly, "Why not?"
The weight of the helmet she had pulled from its perch atop a marble mold now rested in her hands, its golden curves glinting against the sunlight beaming brightly from its point high above. Though it had been some time and--truth be told--she had never wanted to become familiar with said weight yet again, she found herself finding comfort in it now. Many actions well beyond her control had brought her here, but this last action would be her choice.
And she was ready to make it.
As her wild red mane fluttered in the charged air, she continued to stare down at the chaotic mass of storm clouds blocking her view of the destructive terror going on below it on the surface of Humanity's Earthly terrain. Through the howling wind, crackling lightening and deep rumbling thunder were the heart heavy tones of sirens wailing and buildings crumbling. It was a beckoning she had long ago swore to ignore, to leave behind the troubles of humans and all of their self inflicted wounds.
But this was different.
This wound carved upon their world was caused by her own.
With one last parting glance to the bare towering stone pillars around her, a chilling reminder that she was but a few of the last of her kind, she donned her helmet and jumped.
As a child she had often envied the birds surrounding her home world, marveled how they could leap head first and fall like stones only to soar when they were ready to let the wind carry them. When she had come of age and had found her calling in the art of fighting, she had chosen to emulate the magnificent creatures. Her leather cuirass, which wrapped snuggly around her frame, was woven with feathers of one of the most sacred birds of her land. Known for its gentle maternal nature but fierce prey behavior, the Shahbaz would only molt while resting in the highlands too steep for any mortal to reach. As part of her right of passage, she had traveled to the fabled peaks and returned with the offerings left behind by the great predator--having it weaved with her armor so to further protect herself with the magic stored within the soft downy feathers.
Now, as she fell, much like the birds she loved, the grey and white feathers danced violently with the speed of her Descent--the tips almost sizzling as she pierced through the storm cloud and became one with the hard pounding raindrops assaulting the distant ground below.
Colors streaked by her in painted droplets, blues, browns and muddy grays rapidly transitioning to fiery reds, oranges, yellows and billowing black as she closed in on the echoing sirens and flashing lights.
Yet she did not yield.
Even as she whizzed past despairing cries of steel melting and crumbling under the weight of their torn infrastructure, past the ash drifting on the storm winds and mingling with the rain, past the people racing to save those they could and mourning over those they could not--past the horror of what had transpired and into the massive crater of darkness that punched through it all.
Here, as she continued down, the sounds and colors faded away to nothingness. The warm air and wet rain, the rancid stench of destruction and death all drifted from her and left her descending in a void of only herself. A chill settled on her skin the further she fell but it mattered not to her for it only mirrored the cold ache in her soul that made it so easy for her to drop so far and so heavy.
She knew it would only be a matter of time before she reached the basin of this abyss, this unnatural cavern chiseled by a soul that no longer pulsed with emotions beyond selfish desires. In the distance she could see a pin prick of light slowly widening like a mouth to the mythical hell of humans, waiting to devourer her in its raging flames, and she only fell harder.
Gravity, though, reached her first as she approached the flickering growing light, her body slowly turning, pushing her back and decreasing the speed of her descent until her boots hovered but mere feet above heated ground near a flowing river of molten core. The hairs on her quickly drying skin raised in alertness as her eyes observed the hollow earth around her and she felt his presence before he stepped from the shadows swallowing the edges of her vision and into her line of sight.
"Hello mother," he rasped, his face hidden behind a black mask painted with white streaks that formed a monkey's skull--his eyes concealed by black goggles, leaving him empty to her senses.
"What have you done, Kek hanu?"
The muscular man hidden by his dark fitted clothes, the one she had called son from the day she had taken him in, simply shrugged.
"I shall not ask again. What have you done?" she bellowed, her sharp voice booming in hidden tunnels around them.
"I am only playing," he replied, though--even as she could not see his face or his eyes--she heard his monkey like laughter escape after his words, and she knew the lies that his face held.
"We do not play with mortals," her commanding tone cracked, but the whip of her words fell short upon his deaf ears.
He cocked his head, so much like his simian descent, and questioned childishly, "Why not?"
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