Thread: The Death of The Old Ways (Frelance and Retro)

As he collapsed against the moving platform, she winced and threw her hands to her mouth. That was not something she had intended to do. Guilt racked her for a moment, eyes lingering on his bubbling skin. With great difficulty she shook that feeling from her system. There was no time to waste on a solider that had likely killed many of her friends. Not when the battle was still waging all around her. I am truly sorry I have to leave you. She told his assumed corpse. And, strangely enough, the delicate creature meant it. The platform reached the other side and rocked against the tree. With one look back towards the body, she darted off again. Making her way through the tree was nearly impossible. Alchemist spotted her almost instantly by her magefire. Ithilwen burned through most of them. That bluish aura took down her human advisories quickly and effectively. She never made it to the High Priestess chambers, however. The use of such powerful magic had begun to wear on her fragile body. The magefire around her body flickered and faded, and she collapsed against a tree that managed to stay intact. When she awakened the scent of death, decay, lime, and bile was around her. Sobs from the survivors invaded her ears as the vile smells accosted her nostrils. The world around her slid in and out of focus and she pulled herself up slowly a pale and delicate hand resting on her forehead. There was a cry of shock and before her eyes could fully sharpen on her area, two slender and willowy figures had run over to her. Youre alive! one chirped loudly. She clapped her hands together and her coppery curls flopped about. With her tanned skin and golden, glinting eyes Ithilwen was able to pin her as a Sun Elf. Normally they were arrogant and believed themselves better than other fae but trauma had caused at least that one to act uncharacteristically. We thought you were dead, moon elf. You certainly did not breathe much, the other chimed in. She was a Sun Elf, too. Her skin was the same bronze and her eyes the same yellowish hue but her hair shimmered like spun gold. The Sanctuary, of course, was overrun by them. Their species always had valued magic about all things, so it was no wonder that they had built this place. Do you think it was your magic that saved you? Ithilwen shook her head. She was not so sure what had made her enemies and allies both assume that she had expired and she was not going to question it. She was just grateful that the lime hadnt been dusted on her or that she hadnt been thrown into a death pit that had been dug around the parameter of the once great place. A delicate shoulder lifted. I do not know how many days have passed? I feel as if I have been hit across the head with a heavy object. Since the attack? Perhaps three or four it is hard to say. There arent many of us so work is slow. She grimaced and nodded her head before forcing herself up. After a few days of helping out with the site and making sure the dead were properly disposed of, Ithilwen set out away from the Sanctuary. It was no longer a safe place and, really, she found it pointless that the handful that were left were going to try and rebuild it. Alchemist would, no doubt, see it in ruin again. Instead she headed out in attire she managed to ransack from the rooms that still were partially intact. A brightly colored blue tunic was cinched in place by a length of pinkish cloth. Trousers that were too big for her fell with almost every step and she had shoved a feathered cap on her head to keep the brightness out of her sensitive eyes. Some may have called it desecration to steal from the dead she figured that they had no use for it anymore.