RP:Part II: Into the Great Unknown

Part of the Time Heals All Wounds Arc

(Authors’ Disclosure: Every auto-hit between Penelope and Linken was discussed before written. Approval on both ends. This is also a very long RP, so beware for blocks and blocks of text that might be difficult to understand or sort through. Also, note, the entity is not a God, but it is a dark and powerful source that has possessed Linken’s body a long time ago. It thinks it’s godly, but really… it’s not. Arkhen's light is the only thing to keep the entity contained. It wants to be a being, and it chose Linken from birth, and it has been attached to Penelope for years.)

Synopsis: What starts off as a gentle, heart-warming last meal of a picnic before Linken has his memory returned turns into the most evil event Penelope has ever come to witness. Linken’s entity makes itself present, and the power takes over. A massacre happens and a child, sibling, and daughter, Alexia, meets fatality. Bodies of townsmen are scattered across a Sage forest meadow just beyond the Ancient Tree. After the dark power of protecting Linken’s children, the elf is no more, and the entity has entered the show with a promise to bring back Linken’s little girl. Fly home, Copper, for you, healer, are next.

Ancient Tree

Linken was long gone by the time the pair breached the vines that shrouded the temple, with Aeric using his weight to guide Penelope as much as his shambling form could towards the only place they could be. "They didn't take her anywhere! They're -all- still at the house! That's why we have to stop him, they came there looking for him, but don't know where he went-Grrr, this hurts... They were going to use us as bait to draw him out, and they started pummeling on me when I fought back, but I managed to get free and come running for help... Dammit, I didn't think he was going to run off like that! He's going straight into a trap!" Aeric growls with frustration and pain, his pace slowing substantially as he reached down to grab Penelope's sachel, holding it up and shaking it back and forth with a not-surprised expression upon hearing the rattling sound of nothing within. "Ugh, I can't take this anymore... Aren't you a healer? Good gods, aren't you supposed to have something in here to get me back up to speed?? Grr, nevermind," he grumbles as the bag falls from his hand, reattaching to her shoulder and accelerating his hobble once more. "We don't have time for this, we're not going to make it in time! We have to get there fast, or-" he pauses, hesitant to relay his fears out of ome subliminal superstition that saying them aloud may make them come true. "...It will be a massacre..." It would seem that, in spite of their actions, it was not his father's well-being he was mostly concerned about, but the villagers, and rightfully so. A fear that would escalate as soon as they approached the open meadow just outside the Ancient Tree, finally giving scope to the sheer number present within the lynch mob: They were no less than forty strong, the size of a militia, and several were armed with more than your standard-issue pitchforks and axes; broadswords, spears, halberds, crossbows, all protruding from standing walls of leather and makeshift plates. With the ones brave enough to show up in little more than their daily garbs few and far between, but still present. Clearly, word had gotten around at the danger Linken resented, because they did not arrive unprepared. Aeric knew rushing into the scene like his father would not help the situation, pulling Penny off to the side on their approach and remaining hidden within the treeline to give the half-elf an opportunity to assess the situation. "We have to come up with a plan..." A small crowd was gathered at the base of the tree, with at least four in the back prepping and igniting torches, most likely with the intent of razing their home to the ground. Aeric's eyes grew wide; how could they burn such a remarkable thing to the ground out of fear? Where was Inthiannelhui, the trees, and the children's guardian, to protect it? At the front of the small crowd, stood whichever yokel led the charge, with Alexia held in place at his side, kicking and screaming with the man's fingers locked into her hair. "That bastard..." At the center of the meadow, opposite the mob, was the lone tombstone of Talim, here grave the only marking present in the field, and directly between the two was the elf, surrounded by a half-circle of the remaining prejudiced attackers with his hands in the air, all weapons pointed at his form from a seemingly comfortable distance.

(2 of 2) "Please, just let her go!" he cries out, shaking his head regretfully as he desprately pleads with the terrified villagers. "Look, I'm not here to hurt anybody! I don't -want- to hurt anybody! I'm not armed, and I'm not going to fight! -Please-, you can take me and do what you want with me, just let my girl go, please..." Aeric groans in disbelief, balling his fist and smacking it angrily against the tree beside him. "Dammit, -no-, what are you -doing- dad??..." The boy ducks back behind the foliage, turning to Penelope and grabbing her shoulders to pull her in closer for a better view as he points to his sister. "Listen, we have to find a way to distract them. We -have- to get Lexi free and out of harms way. I think if we can get her loose, and get us out of here, they'll lose their leverage and give us an opportunity to escape. I think that's the only way everyone will make it out of...this...what...what's that?.." His eyes narrow as he focuses harder in the direction he points, spotting something large and familiar through breaks in the crowd, and his expression turns aghast when he finally sees what's on the other side; the large, violet-hued form of Inthiannelhui, lying motionless on her side with the insides of her throat strewn out across the ground. Aeric trembled, a rush of tears urgently welling out of his face as he grinded his teeth with white hot rage. Seeing the fate that befell his dearest friend, who'd watched over their family as long as he'd been alive, rattled him to his core. He would not let them get away with this. Looking back to the gathering of torch-bearers, the half elf raised his eyes to the sky, spotting the lift to their home raised high above the ground - and directly over their heads. Blinded by his growing thirst for revenge and eagerness to take action, Aeric turns and darts off into the woods without a single glance to Penelope, his only command being "Stay here," before he abandoned her to vanish on his guerilla warpath, leaving her to observe and assess the situation as she saw fit. How could there possibly be a way out of this?

Penelope narrows her gaze at the boy. She knows. She knows he is in pain. Battered. Bruised. He took the blows for his father. “If we had the time, I would heal you, but he hasn’t been out of that temple in weeks.” The woman says with now concerned expression. A trap. Why? Out of all things, and the fact that there would be bloodshed, her expression turns grim. She could only nod at the teen her leads her to their next destination where the tree line is that is outside of the area of the Ancient Tree. The crowd of people linger, and automatically, the girl reaches for her dagger, but for who? The people? Linken? No, for Aeric and Lexie. Their safety. “Your dad is trying to be morally right without thinking of the innocent.” She states clearly. She knew those people were doomed. He was outside the temple for the first time in a long wait. Internally, she knew that Linken would not intentionally harm the ones that appeared before him. Her shoulders are then grabbed from the teenage boy that had grown tall. Manly, though young all-the-same. He was built heftier than her. Easy to drag her like a ragdoll to the next location. He seemed protective like his father. As Aeric describes his plan, she nods. She can manage a distraction. A gimmick. “I can pretend that I have a cure for your father—everyone trusts a healer, right—“ as Aeric’s eyes trail to what is the remains of the Inthia, the loyal creature that had saved her and Linken time and time again in their past. The one that protected the children when they needed coverage. The guts lay scattered about the forestation. The creature had passed with honor and fulfilled the life that she was made for. To protect the children and Linken. A hand slowly moves to her mouth at the sight of the loyal creature. “Oh my—“ she could not finish the sentence. “Aeric!” She says in a harsh whisper as he soon vanishes and indicates she stays behind. In the meantime, she looks down at her dagger. “No… It’s threatening.” The healer tucks the blade back in her hilt before peering behind the tree line to assess how she could go about calming the crowd down. The gimmick had to work, right? She had played so many faces before, so why would today not work? Let today work. She waits to trace Aeric’s steps from the tree line before she attempts any movement. The girl did not want to risk his safety, nor Lexie’s. Aeric and Alexia were priority.

(1 of 4) Linken continued with his droning pleas until the ringleader drew his sword, the sharp ring of steel resounding through the meadow as the weapon's business end is aimed at the elf. "You're in no position to be making demands of us! Your freak spawn isn't going anywhere until we've put all your pieces in the dirt, and we know for sure she isn't a monster like you!" The young feline shrieks in defiance, "No! Dad! Please, don't!" all the while clawing at his forearm and stomping at his toes until he jerked her head off to the side, snapping it back and forth hard enough to give the little girl whiplash. "Shut it, wench!" Linken roared ferociously when he saw the man's violent response to his daughter's thrashing, throwing his hands down to the side and stomping forward several meters while screaming, "NO!! YOU GET YOUR DAMN HANDS OFF OF HER!!," startling the surrounding militants and causing them to stammer backwards in fear. Until he drew his blade to Alexia's throat. "Back off, I SAID BACK OFF!! Boys, FORMATION! Like we practiced!" The moment he saw the blade touch her neck, Linken's hands went straight back up in the air, immediately beginning to backpedal as he adjusted his tone accordingly. "Alright! Okay, you're right! I'm sorry! I'll stay right here, you just...just do what you have to do." The shifted his gaze to look upon his daughter with regret; He had only just seen her for the first time, and the way things seemed to be going, their first meeting would, by the hands of fate, be their last as well. "I'm so sorry, Lexi," he choked through rising tears as the advancing mob encircled him fully, backing him into the tombstone of his lost lover before they begin to close in, weapons all aimed towards the center at their mark. "No, DAD! Please, DON'T! Dad, I LOVE YOU!! DAAAAAD!!!" The party's leader grows agitated with the girls screaming, raising his voice to bellow over her own as he barked orders towards the rear of his company with a cocked head. "Hurry up and light that damned tree! On with it!" The torch bearers all incoherently shout their replies, lifting their flames and turning to raise them to the oil-doused trunk... when they stop, their attention being drawn to the side by a sudden rattling noise. The sound permeated from the lift's chain, whipping and spinning out of control as the makeshift elevator descended at a dangerously rapid pace, with the young half elf riding the platform down with frenzy in his eyes. "Let her go!!" he screamed, leaping from the lift while it was still several meters above ground level, evacuating just before it smashed into the earth and crushed the group of arsonists beneath its weight, shattering into pieces and smothering the flames beneath it's debris. The sudden crash left the entire lot startled and distracted; the perfect opportunity. "This is for Inthia!" he wailed, whipping the dagger from his side and raising it high as he soared down towards his sister's captor, landing on his back and plunging the blade deep into his shoulder. The force from the fall caused the kidnapper to buckle to his knees screaming in agony, resulting in him releasing the girl and prompting Aeric to shout commandingly at his sister. "LEXI, RUN!!"

(2 of 4) Linken didn't even have time to process what unfolded before him as it all transpired in a flash, only realizing the gravity of what his son had done when he was already upon the attacker. But he did not go down. The elf's eyes grew wide and sunken back with fear and anxiety, unable to hear even his own voice over the deafening thumping in his throat as he screamed to his son, "AERIC! NO!!" It was too late. Furious at the ambush, the kidnapper lifted both hands and wrapped the around the boy's wrist, "Grrr, haven't you had enough beatings today already!?," before pulling his weight forward, whipping Aeric over his shoulder and slamming him upon the ground flat on his back. With the wind knocked out of him, the man reached up, ripped the boy's dagger from his shoulder, lifted it high, and plunged it straight down into his stomach. At that moment, time seemed to slow down for Linken, all of his senses growing dull. Tunnel vision began to set in, and all ambient sound faded away. All he could see was the geyser of blood that jettisoned from his son's mouth, the empty, gasping cry of nothing as his mouth and eyes opened wide with shock and fear, his body coiling like a snake from the lethal blow. The elf was numb. So numb, in fact, that he did not even feel the first blade as it stabbed him in the chest. Nor did he feel the second blade. Nor the third. Nor did he feel any of the blow that followed as the formation took advantage of his stunned state and closed in on him, hooking him with every dagger and sword plunged into his body and dragging him back across his lover's tombstone. Grabbing his ponytail, they'd yank his head down and arch his back to leave his already maimed torso exposed to the sky, their arms rising and falling repeatedly as they proceeded to rip, tear, and pull apart his body until a waterfall of blood cascaded over the granite stone beneath, staining Talim's name red with his blood.

(3 of 4) Linken, however, to his merit, did not struggle through the agonizing death fate had led him to. All of his effort was focused into lifting his head, forced to watched from a distance as the son he couldn't be beside bled to death before him. From the moment this day had started, he was already prepared to die; after his conversation with Penelope the day before, he realized it was the fate he was resigned to. But to helplessly watch his own son suffer alone and perish like this? After everything he's been through, -survived- through, all that he's done to protect them...Shame. Despair. Regret. Failure. These were the only emotions left within him that had not been bled across this grave, and finally at death's door, the only god that would meet him, the -only- spark of divinity he could pray to for forgiveness was that of the child he failed. And then, in that final moment, as the light began to fade from his eyes, it struck him. The sight of his world falling to pieced uprooted the depths of his memories, prying open the core of his mind and revealing to the light the very deaths that were the source of his anguish, and the wrath that followed. Brohm. Ezmerelda. His first child. The others that followed, -would- follow. A ten-ton powder keg of stockpiled emotions exploded within him, the resounding internal shockwave washing away every though that passed through his mind, save for one: How badly he wanted to -kill- these people. This world has done nothing but take from him, and ~take~ from him, and -TAKE- from him, and he was not going to watch it take another family from him while passively allowing these monsters to rip him apart. -They- were the monsters, not him, and so he would spend his last few breaths clawing, scraping, kicking and gurgling, pulling whatever little piece of flesh he could from his assailants as he gripped their arms with every ounce of fight he had left. They were, however, relentless, and eventually Linken would succumb, sinking into the well of flashing steel as they continued their assault, deeming it absolutely necessary to leave no trace of him left.

(4 of 4) That is, until one of them falls over. Dead. His garments, slowly pooling with blood beneath in several spots, with no holes in his shirt to indicate any puncture wounds. Then, after him, another would fall. And another. As their numbers spontaneously dwindled, eventually they would catch on and look about to see what was causing this, though more than half of them would not notice the dark, void-like glow emitting from the elf's hand as he gripped them until it was too late. Somehow, through the sheer force of his hatred, Linken had managed to instinctively call forth his forgotten power to impose his will through transference managing to hang on to the last threads of his life by the skin o' his teeth by means of relocating all of the wounds he received back to those who would inflict them upon him. Crawling back into full lucidity, the elf looked to his glowing hands, making the startling realization at the same time as his attackers; Until this moment, he was previously unaware that he was capable of doing anything beyond what his possessor was capable of... but this power was in -his- hands. And so the choice was made, just as it was all those thousands of years ago. Funny, how history repeats itself. Penelope was intrigued by Linken's past. She'd learned of his simple upbringing, the loss of his family, the curse that plagued him with horrific possessions and immortality. Today, she would finally learn the part of the story oft left untold, the part of the story that nobody survived to tell. She would witness the birth of the monster. The birth of the assassin. For this was not the Entity that fueled his rage; this was the wrath of a father scorned. A father with the power to end kingdoms.

(1 of 2) Penelope keeps moss eyes out from the tree line. The woman itches to jump from the tree line to display her play. Her sneaky tactic, but for some reason, she knows that she should rely on the boy for her bidding. Aeric’s trust is true, and Linken was unpredictable, so she waits for any cue. Alexia’s plea, however, to make her dad halt, made Penelope sick with nausea. Was she supposed to just watch from afar? Though there were plenty of patrons versus herself. Angry. Ready for any challenge. Threatening and daring. The woman keeps her thick guilt quietly from the tree line even when Alexia screams that she loves him. She loves him. She loves him… The woman then steps beyond the tree once the man barks orders to light the tree. Aeric. “No!” She gasps, but her words are not audible enough for the crowd that is distance between the tree line. The flames light, and the anger within her has the spark to light her own—like the night Lionel’s heart stopped beating. Not the children. Not the innocent. They did not deserve death of flame. Though once Aeric is dropping down from the elevator and becoming the hero that he always wanted to be—just like the father that he idolized—so when the sharp blade went down and pierced the boy’s stomach, Penelope could not help herself but make herself present. “No! Stop!” Instincts that were so dour, many would stop to stare at the ferocious, petite girl while others impaled the father of the teen. The blood spewed as each stab went towards the metallic-armed elf. Once. Twice. Thrice. Each time she grew pale in the olive-colored face. The freckled woman looked as if she was about to hurl as he was dragged over Talim’s grave. One of his past lovers. As she watches the blade pierce the man’s body, her world slowly starts spinning slowly as the crimson drops soar through the air. Massacre. This was Aeric’s massacre he was talking about, right? Not the people? ‘Fix them. Fix them. You can fix them,’ she continues to think repeatedly before she begins to bolt forward. Why had she been wasting time? Aeric was always right. Do not just stand and stare… Move.

(2 of 2) Penelope strides across the field with the satchel she always carried around her torso in what appears to be battle mode. Strange. That was one perk she had, she was stealthy and brisk—thanks endurance. Her pouch dangling behind her in her sprint. The girl stops a good distance where the crowd is not fully focused on her. The healer reaches to her side where the hilt of the dark-steeled dagger. Without making so much noise an eye closes to the closest man to her which is about a solid twenty feet. Her arm pulls back with the dagger and her wrist angles slightly before she takes in a thick inhale before exhaling the dagger forward. The handle flies and the blade spins quickly before it sticks right in the lower back in the man’s spinal cord. Thanks, Linken’s narrator for letting her have this one. When the blade sticks, the man wails with a drop. The physician did not want the man dead, but only… paralyzed. From the waist down so there would be no hasty moves. She runs up and pulls the dagger out of the man’s back before looking up to see who else would challenge her. What a mistake, but for the boy? She would risk her life for the boy. When moss eyes dart up to see who her next challengers were, there would be two men ready to reach for her. “Listen, he’s not dead, but he could have been.” She says with gritted teeth as the cold sweat drips off her forehead. The words go through the men’s ear and out the other. One man, burly, reaches for her neck for a strangling attack, while the other thinner and grungy one comes at her with a blade of his own. Thank gosh for those mini lessons with Krice, even though she did not learn much, but as the burly man reaches out, she lifts her hands up between his arms to block off the strangling tactic and then swings the blade to stab him in the pancreas. “I told you!” She pulls the blade out that drips of crimson, however, the lanky man is able to grab her and press the dagger to her throat where it causes just a small knick to the point of the blade, but not enough to do any arm. “He’s just a boy! Let me heal him, please!” The freckled woman shouts for Aeric. “Aeric, you’re not going to die. Aeric, stay awake!” The struggling woman says from the far distance with the crowd of twenty-something men. An elbow tries to jab at the bladed man in resistance before her eyes lock onto the dark glow that comes from the metallic-armed elf who is bleeding out. She watches how the stabber of Linken begins to bleed out in front of the elf. No holes. The blood soaks through the man’s shirt who Linken was touching. The darkness. Was Linken letting it control him? Penelope grabs the man’s wrist with the blade and twists it while raising her other arm up to keep the dagger away from her throat. Petty Penelope then bites down on the man’s arm in order to give her enough lee-way to loosen and pull herself out of the mess. Well, time to… bring on twenty something men. This was not good.

(1 of 7) Linken's narrator is usually selfish with his playthings, but Penny has more than earned the right to contribute to the rising body count as she desires. The other raiders, however, were not keen on any further interruptions distracting them from their already life-threatening mission, immediately calling out her presence the moment she made herself known with the addition of two more wounded bodies on the ground. "Were being flanked! She's with the freaks!" one of them barked, an order that could barely be heard beneath the shrill cry of horror that rung from Alexia, who watched as her entire family was brutally maimed before her eyes. She could not heed Aeric's warning, left frozen and trembling in shock as her cries pierced the ears of all around. "Shut her up and get her out of here!" growled the ringleader, gripping his wounded shoulder as he rose back to his feet, "She's the only leverage we have left! Move it!!" Alexia's screams were muted the moment one of their hands wrapped around her face, picking up her now kicking and struggling form and pullig her back further into the crowd, four more of which stepped out to confront the healer with their weapons at the ready. "They've been harboring this dangerous, murdering freak for years! We're not gonna' let something this evil continue to live so close to our homes anymore! If you're with the freaks, then you'll die too!" Linken continued to struggle under the weight of the many men holding him down, barely able to keep focus on the mortally wounded son he yearned to reach, until he heard another familiar voice enter the fray, turning his head to catch a glimpse or two of her form through breaks in the shifting bodies, as well as the soldiers that began to close around her. Never before had the elf felt so much dread. Had they not already taken enough from him? Would this truly be the day that he loses -everything-? Not her. Please, not her.

(2 of 7) He wouldn't let them. He can't let them. He won't let them. "..I...wont...let...theeeEEEMM!!" The already ignited spark within him bursts into a white hot flame, finding enough strength withing to pull against their weight and break his metallic limb free. Catching one of the dagger wielding hands mid-thrust and breaking his wrist, Linken guides the man's limp arm to the back of his head and slices his ponytail off at the tie, freeing his upper body enough to wrestle the dagger from his hand and thrust it over his shoulder into the chest of the man who immobilized his other arm. Using it like a meat hook, he hoists him into the air and over his body, slamming him into the one with the broken arm and finally rising to his feet, his death-sentence stare snapping straight towards the kidnapper that stabbed his son. He felt it, and a step was taken back in response, his nerves starting to creep into the back of his mind as he begins to realize this was a much more daunting task than they originally presumed. "Good god, he won't go down. MEN! Get in there and HELP THEM!!" He flailed his sword frantically towards the elf, issuing the command that would send several others of their makeshift unit to the aid of those engaged with Linken, who only narrowed his gaze and snarled in response. So it begins. The man that originally had him by the hair leapt over the stone and wrapped his arms around Linken's neck, putting him in a headlock and attempting to draw him back and spread him across the grave once more. As soon as the elf bumped into the stone, however, he sunk lower, planted his feet, and pressed his thighs into the grave marker for leverage. Managing to pry one of the man's arms straight out with his left hand, he barred his prosthetic limb across his abdomen and brought it straight up into his elbow, snapping the bone and tearing through his flesh, and gripping the limb at the wrist with both hands, he'd thrust it backwards over his shoulder and ram the sharp end of the man's own severed limb straight through his mouth and out the back of his neck.

(3 of 7)His screams silenced before they could start, Linken then circled to the man's side as he slumped over the tombstone, tightly wrapping his steel fingers around the flesh left on his wrist and yanking it out with the other, ripping off and cleaning the remaining skin and muscle from the bone as he pulled his new weapon from it's donor's face. The limp hand still dangling from his new death tool, he would rend all who dare approach him, catching the blade of the first one to step forth and take a swing and slipping beneath him, sliding the bone up under his armpit and straight into his heart before heaving him over his shoulder and dropping him to the ground with a thud, ready to move on to the next. Another blade thrust towards the elf's back as two more approached fromthe front, but with another well-timed step to the side he maneuvered out of it's path, allowing the blade to simultaneously pierce the gut of one of the first arriving comrade while catching the passing assailant by his hair, arching his back and ramming the bone-knife straight down through his eye. This display of gore halted the second one dead in his tracks, forced to watch in horror as his struggling friend was dragged closer by his heels, his screams of agony swiftly brought to an end as the elf shoved his steel hand in his mouth and gripped his jaw, usig the bone's wrist as leverage to pry his head open and rip it in half at the mouth, his corpse falling flat to the gound in the explosion of blood that now painted the story of their massacre across Linken's face and chest. "O-oh my god, he's a monster! He's gonna' kill us all! We have to get out of- oomf!" Two more brushed past the coward's shoulders as they led the charge, and when the first one would swing, the elf's response was to catch his arm, using his own momentum to whip his around and bar his arm across his neck in a headlock before raising the wrist spike in the air and cramming it down into the top of his skull, followed by a swift kick to the rear that delivered his corpe into the arms of the second approaching challenger, the flopping hand lodged in his head slapping him in the face as his dead weight brought both of them to the ground.

(4 of 7) Linken prepared to continue his march of destruction, until he was taken by surprise, as yet another jumped him from behind, slipping their arms underneath his and locking their fingers begind his head in a vice grip. Before he had the chance to calculate a response, he felt the cold sting of sharp steel enter his body, a spurt of blood ejecting from his mouth through a cough as he looked down at the sword plunged into his chest, following it's length with his gaze until it led him to the coward, still trembling with fear as he did only moments ago before seizing his opportunity to show his worth and strike. And he should be. Linken's growl escalated into a ferocious roar as he heaved his arms down and grabbed the man holding the blade by his shoulders, yanking him closer and breathing hot death into his terrified face as he rammed the blade clean through the elf's body, impaling the soldier behind him, who slid off of the blade slowy with every step forward the elf took. Hands snaked up around the young man's neck, forced into a backpedal by the elf as his jaw began to flex amid panicked gasps for air, letting go of the blade's hilt to struggle and claw at Linken's arm in resistance before being forced down to his knees. That familiar glow began to emanate from his hand, holding the man in place as steel digits wrapped around the blade and began to draw it out of his chest, one foot at a time, until the weapon fell to the grass stained with the elf's blood. As the wound began to mend, the attacker's gasps turned to gurgles as blood oozed forth from his mouth and his chest, but it was not enough. Not for him. His fingers pointed straight, the elf thrust his steel arm into the open wound like a spear, twisting and breaking the bones in his path until he had enough room to release his neck and cram his other hand into his chest as well. Most of the life drained from his body, the last sight this poor fool would ever see would be that of the frenzied elf, trembling and screaming with race as he pulled his victim apart, blood bursting forth like a fountain as he spread open his ribcage like a flower in bloom and shoved his boot straight into his chest cavity, stomping him forward into the ground and crushing his still-beating heart beneath his heel.

(5 of 7) Linken rose to his feet, having bathed in the blood of those who deemed themselves enemies of his family, and stood before the only one left standing. Trembling as the lost soul prior to him did, and upon witnessing his fate, the sword easily slipped from his hands, lifting them apologetically as the elf approached him. "P-p-please, don't, no! I haven't laid a hand on anyone yet! I swear! let me g-glughh!" Linken stood in silence before him, unblinking, nonspeaking, watching his drooling lips flop as he carried on with his excuses, until the elf's ears caught a familiar snap and whistle, Acting immediately, he grabbed the crying man by his head and jerked him to the left mid-apology, re-positioning him in just enough time to catch a crossbow bolt through the back of his head and out his eye. The elf released his head and dropped his corpse straight to the ground, turning his gaze to the archer that stood in awe of the reaction to his failed shot. "W-what are you doing!? Don't just stand there, KEEP SHOOTING, DAMMIT!!" His commander's orders shook him from his daze, prompting him and the others armed with ranged weaponry to draw back and prepare to fire. "It never ends..." Linken groaned, unwavering in his determination to see this lot wiped from existence as he stepped towards the only immobilized soldier left in his immediate presence, whom had just managed to crawl out from beneath the corpse of his hand-impaled friend and climb to his feet. As he wiped the blood and dirt from his garments, he looked up to see the elf right in front of him, stating to ramble and beg for forgiveness as the last one did before being shut up by a swift cold-cock to the jaw, with Linken never halting his stride as he caught the unconscious man by his arm and began dragging him behind him. His sights were set on their leader, and nothing would keep him from bleeding that bastard dry. His pace was steady, slow, unflinching as the first few volleys of bolts whizzed passed him, the archers missing by mere feet and inches in their panic. Then, the first one would his his mark, planting a shot directly in the elf's heart. "I got him!!" He cheered as the elf stumbled back from the blow...only to reach up and rip the bolt from his heart and throw it to the ground, the crackshot's smile turning to dread as the wound closed before his very eyes and opened on the chest of the one he had in tow. "Oh, no, oh no, oh no! He's a monster! He's can't be killed!!" "Don't stop, keep shooting!" Another volley was launched, then another, with several more bolts striking him in his chest, legs, shoulder and abdomen, yet each shot landed would only slow the approach of their impending doom for mere moments, each bolt firmly ripped from his person one after another and tossed aside as the trail of blood left by the leaking victim he dragged in tow grew thicker and thicker.

(6 of 7) It was not until Linken stood directly before the party's leader, who's commands had finally grown silent with fear, did the others who still remained finally realize their assault was in vain, dropping their weapons and running off in the direction of Kelay accompanied by whoever was left standing from Penelope's encounter. The commander shook in his boots as the elf's gaze silently pierced his soul, until he worked up the nerve to actually -swing- it at him, only for it to be batted off into the distance with ease following a single quick movement from Linken's steel arm. "..I-I...I didn't-guhk!" As soon as he spoke, the elf dropped the arm of the corpse behind him and thrust his steel fingers into the man's neck, burrowing them through his flesh and muscle and wraping them tightly around the inside of his throat. "No words." Blood bubbling and seeping through the wounds, he turned and dragged the man by his neck straight over to where Aeric lie, lifting him up with one arm and slamming him flat down on his back beside him. "-YOU- did this to him! Look at him!" he snarled, pressing his free palm into the side of his face to force him to look upon the dying child before his resistance was met with a swift fist that would dislocate his jaw. "I SAID LOOK AT HIM!! It's YOUR life for -his-!!" Aeric was almost gone, yet he'd use the last of his strength to try and speakto his father as he took his son's hand into his own. "..D-Dad...I...don't.." "Shut up," he barked back, the glow of the void permeating from both of his limbs as he used his dark gift to heal his son, transferring the deadly wound from him to the abdomen of the one who inflicted it. Such a death was not enough to satisfy Linken, who in turn finished him off by ripping his throat clean off and chucking the hunk of flesh off to the side with an outstretched arm, a stream of blod spattering along it's path. And, as the last gurgle of life ceases within the pooling blood in his neck, and the light drains from his eyes, so it finally ends. Aeric would show his first signs of life by groaning in agony, clenching and patting his stomach in search of the wound as he struggled to prop himself upright. "...Ugh...Where did...wait, am I..?" "Where is your sister??" His father interrupted, giving a quick scan of the surrounding area before shifting himself directly in front of Aeric and taking him by the shoulders. "Where is she?? I don't see her anywhere!" The boy shook his head in confusion, attempting to relay what he could remember until his voice trailed off, distracted by his first sight of the massacre that his father left in his wake. "I-I dont know, last I saw her I told her to...run... Oh... my god...Dad, did you do-" "Shut up!" He screamed, grabbing his son by the head and forcefully turning him to look into his eyes, and -only- his eyes.

(7 of 7) "THINK! Where could your sister have-...Alexia?..." Something farther behind Aeric caught his attention. Something small. And as his gaze focused on the sight, he could feel his tunnel vision sinking in again; As the edges of his sight grew dark, the center of his focus was his daughter, who resided at the base of the Tree, where she now lay upon the ground, face down. Motionless. "...Oh, no...Alexia?? ALEXIA!!" he screamed, hands and feet slipping in the dirt and grass as he scrambled to climb to his feet and sprint over to her aid, only to slide to a halt when he reached a distance of only a few feet from her. Then, after a long, silent pause, he'd take a step back. And then another. And another, as now trembling hands lifted to grip his face, sliding up his scalp to comb through and press back the now short locks that tickled his nose and itched his watering eyes as he took in the sight before him. The epitome of al his failures. "..Oh...Oh no...Gods, no, please, not....not...this...." This could not be real. He had never failed them. He had -never- failed them. He would save her. She would be fine. He could save her. Aeric was fine, she will be too. The elf nervously stepped forward with caution, slowly lowering down to his knees and placing his hands upon her shoulder, "I'm going to move you now, baby. Don't worry..." before he lifted her and gently rolled her onto her back, the gravity of her fate finally sinking in only when his eyes met the crimson stain on the center of her white dress. There were no words. Only screams, and tears. Linken coiled over the lifeless body of his beloved daughter, and his bellowing cries would be heard from the peaks of Xalious all the way to the depths of the Underdark as he drove his steel fist into the ground again and again with such force that the tremors could be -felt-, until the earth beneath him began to crack under the power of his misery. In his efforts to save one child, he still managed to lose the other. Linken was finally broken. Completely, wholly, utterly broken.

(1 of 5) Penelope manages to back pedal away from the man that she sunk her teeth out of desperation to. Why did she do this to herself every time? It was as if ‘heroism’ had rubbed off onto her being surrounded with warriors and healers overtime. The girl, however, was not a hero. She was only loyal, and stupidly lucky most of the time where she managed to escape situations with barely a scratch. The tie that she had to the elf was something that she tried years to escape, and it was only now she had to pay her dues for leaving. Help him, and then she would be unbound. She could at least owe him that. The safety of his children and himself. So the clinician stands proud of the choice she has made with her chin high with the stare that showed one of a lion’s heart. “The choices that you’ve made, you have no idea what is going to happen to you, do you? If you’ve heard the rumors, you would have played smart, and because of that I can’t protect you.” The girl holds the dagger up in defense to threaten them back. “But to try to kill children and snatch them, well, that’s just ungodly. So, I have to protect them. I would have never let it get this far if I had the choice, but you don’t. You would be wiser to leave.” She knew that now. Today was not about to be peaceful like she first planned it out to be. Two men only scoff before enclosing in on her with their weapons while the two others stay back for support. The healer was an easy target, to say the least. The small woman did not know her potential, for she only witnessed it on the last battlefield with Lionel and the spiders. The giant spiders. The screams of Alexia are clear in the background before they become muffled. “She’s just a child!” The Ardelian shouts thickly before her brows narrow. Her face turns a beat red before the color drains from her face and moves to her hands. Her eyes begin to dim from their mossy hue to what would be a hazel greenish-brown. She did not want to cause any pain or harm, but… it was for Aeric and Alexia. For them to keep living full lives. A spark flickers separately below both of their feet. The small fire would then rise and absorb over their feet until the heat moves to their pant legs. One of the men does a double-take before pointing at the other man. “Sven! You’re on fire!!” The man then feels the scorching heat on his own legs and the burns makes him seethe and begin to scream. Both of them scream as they become enflamed, fall down, and begin to roll in the meadow. The girl then pulls her fists down in a ball by her legs and the flames die out. Like she said, death was not the answer, but that did not mean the threat was not there. And as she turns to see the next horror, her face dims from the angered twist.

(2 of 5) Penelope’s eyes remain that hazel, but her face is now of one of horror as Linken screams that he was resisting the harm that was heading everyone’s way. Except… well, whoever’s arm he was breaking. Eyes stare for too long, and hands are wrapped around her before she is pulled back into a man’s chest. The woman becomes squirrely and tries to lean forward while her arms are back. “Get the hell off of me! You need to leave! Leave! You’re going to die! You need to go!” The thick accent was bursting out of her, and now the fear shows. Not for Linken’s kids, but for those who think they are protecting the people of Lithrydel. “Oh, pretty girl is mighty feisty over that beast, huh?” The lanky man with the arm bite had his blade still as he traces it over her torso. “No not the beast. You! You don’t understan—“ The girl tries to explain. “Shut up! You’re just as dark as he is. Look at what you’re trying to protect in our land! So this, princess, is for the harm –you- caused to our men today.” The blade pulls back and plunges into her chest. Thankfully enough, this dude did not know anatomy like she did. An angry townsmen. Not a true soldier. The wound feels hot as she shrills out, but she tries to suck in the pain. Eyes open wide before looking at Linken who is now shoving a man’s limb through his mouth and skull. She waits for another stabbing pain to soar through her body besides the one that is right above her heart, but the man before her looks horrified. “L-let her go. Let her go!” He screams before bolting the opposite direction. The other guy that holds her by the arms throws her to the side and she stumbles before hunching over at the sight she is about to continue to see.

(3 of 5) From the days she knew Linken, he had tried time and time again to convince her that he was built to be a weapon, and she always thought the opposite. Wrong choices that drove her away, yes, but a weapon? Well, that would not be until today. Her eyes clench shut as the Ardelian mumbles what looked to be like a prayer to a deity she never believed in until today. Arkhen. “Stop this please… please…” Her hand hovers over the wound that oozes from her chest, but she cannot let that distract her. Eyes open and Linken’s blood stained face is pressing his hand forth into a man’s chest. A man who was dying. Several bodies were now spread on the floor, and the man who is paralyzed is screaming for help. What had –she- done? Or was it them to blame? Or… Linken? The entity? The woman stumbles forward and leans over the man who cannot move. She slips her hands under his arms and begins to pull him backwards to the tree line where she came from. Atonement. Gods please forgive her. “Let me go, wench! Let me go!” The Ardelian hushes the man. “Shhh… No. No. I’m protecting you. The Kelay Healer can repair the damage.” Eventually, Penelope is out of sight with the paralyzed man. She places him behind a tree… Hidden. Her face drips with sweat. “Do not make a sound,” she hovers a shaky bloody finger over the stranger’s lips. “I’ll come back for you, I promise.” The man abides due to her promise. A promise she could hopefully keep. The woman then comes out of the tree line and makes her sight for Aeric. She stops to gag as Linken tears a man’s ribcage open. “Linken, stop!” The woman commands. “Don’t do this, please!” Or maybe do? The men were still attacking and there was still bloodshed.

(4 of 5) Penelope has no time to continue to try to stop the elf that continues to kill the men that try to stay behind to be the heroes of Lithrydel. Instead, she moves past the men that are trying to stop him and she reaches Aeric to hover over the boy. The leader was fairly distracted by Linken, so it was easy to circle and dash around the massacre that the girl was blocking out. “Aeric, Aeric!” The woman falls to the ground and she tries to bite back the nauseating stench of iron that wafts from the field. The stench of death. “You’re not going to die.” A trembling hand reaches in the satchel where she finds alcohol to wash off her own blood-stained hand. Tears would be suppressed back, for the sake of the boy’s sanity. She had seen war behind, and she had seen plenty of wounds in her days, but nothing compared to the horror that was this evening. Her wound still bleeds and she feels light with the commotion and the blood that was draining from the wound lingering under her collarbone, but she knew she would survive. The heart was not stabbed, and once Aeric was patched enough to hold together, she would be able to try to fix herself with ease. The liquid is dumped over her hands and she rubs them together before pulling out gauze pads. They fly over the ground as she rummages her hand through her bag quickly. The healer then presses the gauze where he bleeds out. “It’s okay, Aeric,” she hums. The woman tries to keep her healer’s tone. For the patient, but this was no ordinary patient. This was no ordinary war. Trauma. She could do trauma. That was her field. Trauma. The teen was holding on by a thread. He was the one hurt. Dying. Penelope could hear the screams of the crying man who said he had not hurt anyone in the process of just being a part of the rage. The mob. Her eyes look into the fading ones before her. “You made me forget about,” she sings softly with a very shaking tone to distract from the screams. The sound of cracking bones. The sounds of pools of blood. “Past and pain. You do me good… you do me good,” she sings for herself and the boy. More gentle sounds. Then, the weapon was near and she cuts herself off. The commander was left and his neck is grabbed before forcefully looking down on the boy. Penelope stumbles back and leaves the gauze on top of the boy as she watches the man that was not a man anymore rip the throat out of the commander.

(5 of 5) Again, there is another heave where the bile rests in her throat. Never in her lifetime had she seen something so unholy and gory. This was not just darkness, this was unreal. Her head spins at the adrenaline, the blood that she is slowly losing, and the chaos that is happening around them. She finally throws herself forward to her hands to let the vomit release from the massacred bodies that lay around her. The smell of death. The gore and remains. This was nothing like the saurian war. Nothing like the battle with Kahran. Nothing like the whispers of her spirit brother who touched her emptily. She gasps. She wanted anyone to make it stop. To play the hero. As Linken grabs the head of Aeric, Penelope slowly sways up to her feet. “Linken stop! Stop! Let the boy be!” Though, Linken is in his own world as he looks for the little girl. The woman stumbles and as she does, she begins to rip her shirt for a long strand to wrap around her chest tightly at an angle. She does this to slow down the bleeding. For pressure. And then, the screams come from the tree. Everything had been a blur to the healer. She could not keep up with what was happening before her today. ‘I’m gonna move you now, baby. Don’t worry.’ The unkempt haired healer turns around the corner to only find the girl in the white dress lifeless. “A-A—“ her hands move to her hair in disbelief and a pain shoots to her stomach. The guilt and the pain is real, and she could not imagine another step as she watches the metallic-armed elf sob over the lost child, and the shock sets in. Penelope Halifax is in shock and is unable to cry or be in anymore physical pain for the time being. Another lost child. The healer, extremely hesitantly moves behind the hunched father. Was he a father? Was he a man? The woman wants to reach out to comfort, but her hands physically will not let her. The truth was she was terrified of this man, and at this point, may always will be. Instead, she is in search for Aeric. Wherever he remains, she would try to reach for him instead and clutch him to spread the ‘comfort’ that would never be able to spread. A sibling and a daughter had been lost.

(1 of 3) Linken could not hear or feel the presence of the woman he loved, even as she vomited in sick grief and bled from her chest. Linken could not sense his son, whom fell to his hands and knees, joining Penelope in making sick as he sobbed in grief over the guilt of feeling he was to blame. All he could do was lift her into his arms and hold her close, gazing down in awe at the beauty of the little girl he raised from a toddler, who died alone, scared, lost in a sea of hatred and violence without the protection or comfort of the one who swore to defend her with his life. The little girl whose father lost his memories of her, and hadn't even got to meet her yet. The little girl whose last words on this earth to her father were 'I love you,' and he didn't even get to say it back. "..I..I didn't...even...get to..." His hand trembles as it lifts to her head to gently brush the hair from her porcelain face, his fingers grazing the red fur on the rim of her ear, then trailed down to cup her cheek, dusting over her pale skin with his thumb. She was already cold. So cold. From the moment his prosthetic was attached, Linken had grown immune to the cold, had lost all sensation to it. He had forgotten it. Forgotten, until now. His eyes shut tight, forcing out the tears that welled within as his head rocked back, belting his cries of anguish into the heavens as he pressed her face into his chest. "Ohh, I didn't even get to-...oh, -Gods-, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, baby, I'm -soooo- sorry... OH, forgive me...Please, forgive me...I wasn't there....I wasn't there..." There was nothing left he could do except once again cradle the shattered pieces of his life, feeling the last piece of hope he held within wither and fall with his tears, leaning down to place an unearned kiss upon her head before burying his face in her hair. "It should have been me... Why couldn't they have just killed me?...I was ready...I was ready..." Linken started to behave more frantically as he sobbed, beginning to rock back and forth as he pleaded to whoever listened. "Gods, please. Arkhen... -please-. Give her back to me... Don't do this to me... I'll give you anything you want, just bring her back to me..." What's that, you say? Anything?~ "Please, just...take me instead..." What, now?? Well, why didn't you just say so!? I suppose that's ~My~ que to jump right in! *Malign coughs* Ahem... Now, anyways, back to what I was saying... Linken continued to wallow in his failure, dwelling on the misfortune that seems to eventually befall all those he comes to love. "It should have been me..." It -has- to be him. As long as he continues to live, Linken would be a threat to any and all life, and as his gaze drifted to a stray sword dropped in the midst of battle that lay at his side, he knew what it would take to stop this once and for all. He would come back, this is true, but if he had to spend an eternity of sacrificing his life the moment he awakens from the last, 'til the end of time, then he would suffer that fate for the sake of all those whose lives he put at risk.

(2 of 3) His hand would quietly slip from the back of her head, wanting to make no sudden movements as he reached for the blade... And that's when the whispering started. The voices. They told him not to lose hope. They told him she could still be saved. That his family could still have a happy ending. "...What?" he mumbled quietly to himself, seemingly speaking to no one. It would have been easy for one to mistake his rambling for grief-stricken nonsense, but it would start to turn more towards a conversation with himself. "...No, I can't...I know what will..." Oh, but you don't have to give us 'complete' control. Just for a little bit.~ "...Theres no way I..." What, no way you can trust me? You've seen what I can do. You know I can control things. ~Change~ things. Make it like none of this -ever- happened. I -can- give her back to you, and all I'm asking for is a lil' go around. You -know- we can't stay out forever... "...But, the others..." What, the boy and the healer? You have my solemn ~word~ I won't lay a finger on them. And if you're worried about anyone else, well...Could it really be any worse that what -you've- done here, today? Linken glanced back over his shoulder, taking in the field of red gore with a cooler head that could interpret the scope of the atrocity he'd committed, Talim's grave stained with his blood. Then, he pictured Alexia's tombstone next to hers. He had to turn away; he couldn't even look at Penny, or his son. He knew what they were thinking, because he was thinking it too. He was a monster, vicious and brutal, uncontrollable, and undeserving of what little comfort he had in his life. Hell would be a reprieve from the tortured existence he was forced to lead. That, and he knew what he was about to do. Not just for the child he failed, but for his own selfishness. Closing his eyes tight and swallowing back his own guilt, he'd place her gently back upon the ground and draw a deep breath as he lurched over her form. His back to the others, it was unclear what he was doing, but a keen eye would catch faint traces of a dark glow reflecting off the grass beneath him, silent but distinct, and after a moment he would lift her back up into his arms, cradling her in his lap upright with her chin resting on his shoulder. Finally rising to his feet, he would lift her up with him, gently swaying her back and forth as he continued stroking her hair. "...Don't worry, baby....Shhh...Don't be scared...I'm here for you...Just one more minute, please..." *Malign sighs* Oh, alright. Get it out of your system, then... It appeared as though Linken was saying his final goodbyes to his daughter, given him asking for another moment to spare. Until her hand moved, slowly lifting to tightly grip his arm. "...Daddy?..."

(3 of 3) Linken's form jolted as he audibly sobbed in response to hearing her voice, pressing another firm kiss to her head as her eyes slowly fluttered open. "Oh, my god- baby, Yes! Yes, it's me, it's me....God, I love you so much, sweetheart. I love you ~so much~, I am so sorry...You're going to be alright..." Aeric lifted his gaze from the puddle of puke before him to discover a surprising sight unfolding, stepping in and slipping on his own mess as he scrambled up to his feet in astonishment. "Wait, wha-!?...Dad, is she..? Wait, what happened?? What did you do!? Did you..." It was clear that Aeric was fearful of his father finding a way to bring her back at the expense of his own life, given what his power could do. His questions would go ignored, though, as Linken continued to comfort Alexia, cautiously placing her upon her feet and taking her by the hand when he was sure of her balance. "Daddy, what...happened?..." She questioned, lifting an arm to rub her eyes. "Don't worry, baby, everything's going to be alright..." Facing the tree, his head dips down as he squeezes her hand. "...Sweetheart...I need you to be brave for me...I love you..." Alexia furrows her brows, her ears folding down in confusion as she tries to look up at him, her squinty eyes blinded by the light. "Daddy, what do you mean?...What are you...Ow, daddy..." She tries to wiggle her hand free. "Daddy, you're squeezing too hard, it hurts...Dad, let go! What are you..." Linken finally turned his gaze to the side to meet hers, his head moving in front of the sun to shade her eyes from the light, and when she finally saw his face, her expression grew tainted with fright, causing her to scream in panic as she struggled to get out of his grip. "Noooo!! Go away!! Let me go!! Give him back, GIVE HIM BACK!!" Linken's posture remained unphased by her anxious thrashing, and as she shouted and pleaded for help, the elf would slowly turn around to face the pair behind him with a wide, anticipating grin, and eyes as black as the night. "It's showtime!" Then, as if reality itself blinked, for a split-second all light seemed to drain from and refill all of existence, and when it returned, the entity and Linken's daughter were gone. However, at the exact moment of the 'blip', a gross spattering sound could be heard, and when the two circle around to investigate the source of the noise, they would discover the fate of the one soldier Penelope sought to protect, and the message he carried for them: The majority of his vital organs, inclding his heart, lungs, stomach, pancreas, and intestines, were pulled out completely, draping from his mouth like a rope and gathering in his lap, with the large-written words, 'FLY HOME LITTLE COPPER' painted across the Ancient Tree's trunk in his blood.

(1 of 2) Time had passed as she is absorbed in the comfort of the teen. The clutch that she had on the boy was full of protection and strength for herself and him. Although he had grown, he still had a mind of a boy. She would always picture him as the boy she once met and cared for. How much time had actually passed? Linken surely made the emotional pain relevant when sobbing within the hair of the girl that relied motionless on the ground. No sign of breathing. The elf begins talking to himself, and that’s when Penelope finally finds her dying hazel gaze on the man before her to manage the present. He was not talking to himself… no. He was talking to what was inside. Her grip on Aeric loosens and she is stepping near the elf slowly. “Linken, don’t listen to it. Please,” she pleads. “This is what it wants. You’ve been in the temple protected for so long. It wants you,” she groans again and tries to stand tall, but surely she is slumped in exhaustion. Though, this was only the beginning. Without her control, the little girl sways and speaks. She speaks. Alexia speaks? What kind of deal was made? The girl was surely dead prior, and now, she is alive and breathing. Linken’s back still faces the healer and the fixed boy. ‘Sweetheart…I need you to be brave for me…I love you…’ it was like a last dying wish. In this moment, Linken’s back hovers and faces the healer and the teen. “Linken, no. No.” The healer is shaking her head multiple times, and the exhaustion is faded. The healer is again upright despite the wound in her chest. Her breath picks up and eventually Alexia is yelling that her father is hurting her and that is when Penelope moves to try to grab the girl from her father’s grasp. The blackened eyes stare with grim delight as they stare into the now mossed mortified gaze. Then, there was nothing. They vanished.

(2 of 2) From behind in the distance, the splatters and squished sounds come from behind the tree line where she once appeared from. Where she pulled the paralyzed man to. The man she promised to re-heal. Her breath thickens and the dizzy woman begins to walk across the meadow back to where she came from. She turns before she continues all the way further. “Aeric, you need to –leave- and get far away as possible, or if you don’t, at least stay here and –do not- move.” The physician trembles as she takes a deep breath to continue on until she is at the tree where she hid the paralyzed man. She turns the corner and there would, lifelessly, rest the man with his organs spilled out his mouth. Another reason for the nausea to build up. The image is gruesome and not one to forget what the entity is capable of. The woman covers her mouth as moss eyes would grow wide as she tumbles backwards in nonstop quiver. ‘FLY HOME LITTLE COPPER’. Copper. “Leave us alone!” She shrills as she yells into the open air. Copper was the nickname the drow had given her years and years ago when she was kidnapped with the innocent farmer girl of Emilia. The days tortured. The days she did not want to remember and blocked out. The days where Linken discovered her missing existence and they survived an explosion to get her out of the tunnels. The drow community was now something she was against, even though it happened so long ago. A community she feared. The entity was hinting at internal fears. “Oh my Gods,” she would scatter throughout the dirt of the forest until she was back on her feet again to bolt back into the meadows. She let the soldier down. The promise she would not be able to keep after all. Her hand would snatch onto Aeric’s arm. “Leave! Now! Run! Anywhere. I –will- find Alexia, but you need to go. Don’t play hero.” This was pure evil, and it was clear that Penelope was a target. “Don’t think where you are going. Just run.” Her gaze was forceful and she had no reason for him to stay. The healer would try to push the boy off even if he tried to resist. As for her, fly home would have a new meaning.

(1 of 2) Aeric gasped when his father turned around and stared at them with empty eyes, instinctively darting forward to try and rescue his sister, much as Penelope did. He'd fall right through her, however, at the exact moment they 'blipped' from existence, diving face first into the ground and smashing his fist against the dirt."No! Dammit!" It was worse than he could have imagined; so much worse. His father gave in. In his grief, he gave in. The entity had control. It had his sister. And he had no idea where they went. It was a nightmare. One that would take them into the depths of their innermost fears. As soon as Penelope commanded his departure and darted off to the other side of the Ancient Tree, he'd turn and shout in protest, climbing with his hands and pushing off the tree's trunk to regain his posture before setting off after her. "Wha-hey, what the hell are you talking about!? I'm not going anywhere!! HEY!! Where are you going!?" As he rounded the massive tree, he'd hear her shrill cry, taking a deep breath and frantically quickening his pace before belting out his arrival in fear of the worst. "PENNY! Hold on!! I'm coming!!" As her shaken form came into view, he'd slide to a halt, quickly shutting his eyes and turning his head away at first sight of the grotesque message left on display. "Penny! Are you...?! Oh! Oh, dear gods..." Fly home, little copper. Aeric knew what the message meant; He didn't know the significance behind the name, but he could tell by her reaction. It wanted to get into their heads, and for Penelope, it seemed to be working. As the woman turned and suddenly rushed him, franticaly pushing him and screaming at him to flee, he'd at first top off balance, catching her sleeves to correct himself before shoving back in defiance, attempting to shout over her cries as their feet buckled and slid in the dirt. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing!? Hey, stop it!! You're -nuts- if you think I'm not going after my family!! I said stop it! STOP IT!!"

(2 of 2) Fed up with her panicked bullying, the young half-elf delivered a swift kick to her shin to bring her down to a knee, then balled a big ol' heaping of common-sense in his hand and slapped her right across the face with it, quickly stooping down to her level and grabbing her head to force her focus on him, and only him. "Dammit, pull yourself together! You're giving it -exactly- what it wants! It wants to scare us! If we don't keep our senses about us, we're just going to die! And you know -damn- well as I do that I'm just as much a target to this thing as you are! We're in this -together-! But we need to do this -smart-, so I need you to keep your s#%t together! Okay??" Never breaking eye contact, he brings a single hand into her limited field of view, a single digit pointing to the treetops above. "If we run, this thing could still probably get us from anywhere. You saw it; they just up and vanished. It clearly wants us to follow it, so we have no choice but to go straight for it; but we're going to go in prepared. Up there." He pokes his finger in the direction of his home. "You realize who my father -is-, right?" Weapons. Armor. Artifacts. He probably still had a lot of those. "We go up there, we -arm ourselves-, like people who want to live, and then we go after them, together." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Besides, if you disagree I'm still going anyways. So, are you with me?"

Penelope is kicked in the shin and she kneels in a grunt. “What the hell are you—“ Then, his hand comes in a hot smack against her freckle-dusted cheek as if he was a figure smacking sense into their child. Even though he was the child. The teen. Her face lingers down as the strands of locks fall in her face. Her head raises and her brows are narrowed as she glares at him when he holds her face steadily. It was as if he knocked the straight-face back into her. A small hand rests on her cheek. His words breeze by her and she silently knows. She was giving in and this was only the beginning. “You’re right. It wants you too,” she blinks before eyes are shifting towards the trees where the dead man rests. “We stick together, but for the love of Sven don’t you smack my face like that again.” Her tone flows like venom before she pulls his hands off of her face. Her breathing collects itself evenly before she rises to her feet and her eyes trail up to the tree. “If anything your father probably has a solid bow up there. Hopefully one that is a smaller size,” otherwise her aim would be crap. Her dagger and a bow. That would be easy, right? “I’m with you. Come on. Let’s go,” the woman would part from him and begin to move to the home in the tree.

(1 of 2) Aeric snorts and tightens his face as she snaps at him and swats him away. Fair enough. He deserved that. But it wouldn't stop him from arguing his case as she left him behind to begin her ascent up the vines of the tree. "Well, then don't freak out an start manhandling and pushing me around! It's not like I -wanted- to!" He really didn't. Honest to gods. I -promise-, he means it. Yet, he also knew that a slap to the cheek was like a summer breeze compared to what the entity was capable of doing to them, and he'd seen Penelope crack under pressure more than once; she took a stand for him today, and he owed her for it, but he truly hoped she was ready. He may be agressive towards Penelope at times, but she was still like a mother to him. He doesn't want to lose her, too. Before he knew it, she was halfway up the tree, and tossing his arms in defeat he'd scurry up the vines behind her, relying on his elven blood to assist him in catching up. When they'd reach the walkway at the top, and approach the entrance before them, there'd be no need to open the door, which was already split into pieces and kicked through. The large, elven domicile was in ruins: Beds, broken in and collapsed. Silk drapery, ripped from the walls and ceiling. The large, overhead lantern, brought down from the ceiling, wth the room's centerpiece table folded in two at the center of impact. The overhead portrait of Linken and his wife, it's canvas ripped in two and their faces torn to shreds. Hardly one piece of furniture or necessity was left untouched by the ransackers, the once beautiful and inviting home left in pieces worthy of being condemned. Aeric wasted no time examining the state of his domicile, having been there when it all happened, making his way to the only place he could think of that wouldn't have been looted; The wine cabinet. Taking a few hops with his long stride, he landed in front of the hand-made wooden structure and swung open the door, perusing the any proken bottles shelved among the puddles of wine and glass shards that pulled within. "Jeez...I hope this doesn't break it..." (2 of 2) Reaching around the inside lip of the cabinet's frame, he feels around until he discovers a smal wooden panel and presses down on it, turning to pause and watch the broken bottles as if expecting some sort of reaction. "...Dammit." Aeric then begins frantically pressing the button as fast as he could, shouting every insult and expletive that came to mind as if one of his parental figures definitely -wasn't- right behind him, before growing angry at the malfunct, wine-soaked mechanism and winding his leg back to deliver a swift kick to the bottom-left of the cabinet's base. "For the love of- Oh, just open THE HELL UP!!" As soon as his heel struck it's side, two panels popped open above his foot; one, fanning out from the bottom, with a row of filled quivers, and above them a swinging panel with a pair of bows mounted inside the door. Not a moment after they opened, The wine rack inside dropped straight down through the floor and crashed in some space beneath them, causing Aeric to wince at the sound of even more things breaking as he gazed upon the assortment of swords, knives, and other less-common weaponry mounted within. "He just had to make it a wine cabinet..." Before moving to make his selection, he'd pluck a shortbow from the door to examine. A shortbow, of exquisite elven craftsmanship, made of white birch and etched with swirling patterns that resembled olive branches. It was originally made for his sister, but she never used it. Alexia didn't like the idea of hurting anything, even hunting. The boy sighs; It's a fine bow, he thought to himself... and promptly tosses it back to Penelope without warning. "There's arrows over there, "he mentions with a wavy hand before moving to the larger portion of the hidden arsenal to peruse. "You didn't forget how to use one of those, did you?"

The healer reaches up with a small wince due to the wound in her chest. She pulls herself up the vines until she reaches the top platform. The house had been in shambles. The cracked tables, the pulled down drapes, glass everywhere, and the picture of Linken and his past wife. The girl does not give herself a moment to react. Instead, she thickly inhales before stepping within the old home that she had made memories in. Shoes crunch over the debri and follow behind Aeric’s lead. The woman does not say a word about the catastrophe of their childhood home. As the teen makes his way to the wine cabinet, she keeps her back to him to watch the door. Just in case any suspicious activity happens, and well, she had to be there to protect him as him her. As the blonde teen curses, she looks over her shoulder until he stomps the entrance to the hidden weaponry open. The frustration taints the already destructed atmosphere, so she decides to mind her own and focus on herself. In the meantime while he looks beyond the gear, she is taking her heavier satchel off her torso. The woman opens the satchel and pulls out a few key med supplies from her kit. Gauze, medical wrap, tweezers, a small suture kit, a small bottle of cleaning solution. She takes this and she tucks it into the small herbal pouch that always remained empty until she needed a specific ingredient. Lighter the luggage, the stealthier she would be. The shortbow made of white birch is now given to her and she gazes over the crafting before reaching out to take it. “You’d be surprised. I think you underestimate me a lot of the time.” She tries to manage a smirk at his heavy, stoned attempt of a joke, but there was no humor that she could muster. Not after what happened below the tree. The deceased. The Ardelian then moves to where he gestures the arrows to be. The arrows were scattered over the floor, so she slides them back into the pack they came out of before throwing it over her torso in exchange for the satchel she carried. She drops the satchel to leave behind. Just a pouch, arrows, a dagger, and a shortbow. Then again, what would these weapons even do? Linken appeared to be unstoppable.

Aeric doesn't crack a smile, yet still manages a chuckle through his austere expression. "I was just making sure." He begins to procure several instruments from the present selection, including a shortsword, strapped to his hip, a fistful of throwing daggers, slotted into his belt, a grappling hook and rope, for various potential scenarios, and a belt strung with several small, round ceramic objects. "Oh, boy." Holding the potential explosives with caution, he slowly raised them closer to his face for further analysis through squinty eyes, ultimately deeming them safe and signaling so with a sign of relief. Carrying them over to Penelope, he puts the belt to his mouth and bites the string that threads the bombs, removing a cluster of three and placing them in her hand. "I want you to hold onto these. Don't worry, they're not explosives! When broken, they emit a bright, blinding white light. I doubt it will do much against him, but at the very least, it could serve as a distraction, or help you get away. Just make sure you do -not- look at it. Thow it. Turn your head. Run. Got it? Good." As he finishes fastening the light bombs to his belt, he moves over to the remaining bow, snatching it from it's side display and grabbing a handful of arrows before making for the balcony, where the lift used to be. "If you're ready, we have no time to waste. Let's get going." Stopping to lift one of the chains and reset it in it's pulley, he held on tight with his free hand and leaped down into the lift's opening, shouting "Don't be scaaared!" as he rode the chain all the way to the bottom. After waiting for her descent, however long that took depending on the route taken, The trio would make their way to the herbalist's shop and home, where they'd be greeted upon their arrival by a pair of saddled horses strung outside, possibly belonging to anyone, most likely customers, and a door that was cracked open. Aeric gulped; this was not good.