The smouldering remnants of darkspawn littered the forest edge, their black ichor staining the snow-dusted earth. Isla tightened her grip on her staff, the carved wood warm and crackling faintly with an electrified current as the last of the foul creatures writhed at her feet. It spasmed as the charge animated its lifeless form, dead eyes staring upward as her staff’s bladed tip withdrew from its chest. This battle was over.
A bark broke the stillness. Remi, her sister’s Mabari, danced around the clearing, his jaws stained with darkspawn blood. His tail wagged happily, his enthusiasm untempered by the hurlocks.
The Mabari padded over, nudging her hip with his bloodied snout as if to assure her of their shared victory. Isla reached down absently to scratch behind his ears, her gloved fingers trembling ever so slightly.
She looked out over the battlefield, leaning on her staff as she tried to calm the storm within. The village had been saved. The spawn’s raiding party had been taken care of. There’d been no ogre among them, thank the Maker, but still, their presence so close to a settlement sent an all-too-familiar chill through her. There wasn’t a Blight, but the creatures persisted, like a festering wound refusing to heal. And where there were darkspawn, there were memories of Arran.
Her sister’s face surfaced in her mind, resilient even through the haze of years and loss. Isla could still see Arran’s laugh lines, the fierce glint in her eyes as she teased Isla about her bookish tendencies, her stubborn kindness that had always driven her to acts of reckless bravery. It was that same stubbornness that had them both take on the Grey Warden Joining. And that same bravery that had left Isla, again, chasing her shadow.
Her reverie was shattered by the creeping itch under her skin. The rage demon stirred, prowling through her mind’s eye like a caged predator. It clawed at her focus, howling with dissatisfaction. This wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. It craved more, more blood, more fire, more destruction.
Isla sank down to a knee, gripping her staff like a lifeline. The world tilted, the edges of her vision darkening as the rage within surged. She could see it now, prancing around her like a petulant child, its flames licking the edges of her thoughts.
The demon snarled in response, its presence pressing against her will. Remi growled low in his throat, sensing her struggle. The sound cut through the fog in her mind, tethering her back to the moment. Isla took a deep, steadying breath, forcing the presence back into its cage. The invisible flames dimmed, retreating into the recesses of her being, though their warmth lingered like a threat.
Isla slowly rose, brushing off the earth from her robes and glancing down at the Mabari.
A bark broke the stillness. Remi, her sister’s Mabari, danced around the clearing, his jaws stained with darkspawn blood. His tail wagged happily, his enthusiasm untempered by the hurlocks.
Good boy, Remi,she murmured, her voice low and hoarse. Her heart still thundered in her chest, and the taste of fire and smoke lingered on her tongue.
But I think we got ‘em all.
The Mabari padded over, nudging her hip with his bloodied snout as if to assure her of their shared victory. Isla reached down absently to scratch behind his ears, her gloved fingers trembling ever so slightly.
She looked out over the battlefield, leaning on her staff as she tried to calm the storm within. The village had been saved. The spawn’s raiding party had been taken care of. There’d been no ogre among them, thank the Maker, but still, their presence so close to a settlement sent an all-too-familiar chill through her. There wasn’t a Blight, but the creatures persisted, like a festering wound refusing to heal. And where there were darkspawn, there were memories of Arran.
Her sister’s face surfaced in her mind, resilient even through the haze of years and loss. Isla could still see Arran’s laugh lines, the fierce glint in her eyes as she teased Isla about her bookish tendencies, her stubborn kindness that had always driven her to acts of reckless bravery. It was that same stubbornness that had them both take on the Grey Warden Joining. And that same bravery that had left Isla, again, chasing her shadow.
Her reverie was shattered by the creeping itch under her skin. The rage demon stirred, prowling through her mind’s eye like a caged predator. It clawed at her focus, howling with dissatisfaction. This wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. It craved more, more blood, more fire, more destruction.
Isla sank down to a knee, gripping her staff like a lifeline. The world tilted, the edges of her vision darkening as the rage within surged. She could see it now, prancing around her like a petulant child, its flames licking the edges of her thoughts.
Not now,she hissed, voice strained and tight.
You’ve had your fill.
The demon snarled in response, its presence pressing against her will. Remi growled low in his throat, sensing her struggle. The sound cut through the fog in her mind, tethering her back to the moment. Isla took a deep, steadying breath, forcing the presence back into its cage. The invisible flames dimmed, retreating into the recesses of her being, though their warmth lingered like a threat.
Isla slowly rose, brushing off the earth from her robes and glancing down at the Mabari.
Thank you, Remi,she said, her voice quieter now.
I’m fine. Let’s… let’s keep moving.
Yesterday, 09:44 AM
