Little flame, for how long can you flicker?

[Kry]

63rd, Summer 515 AV

What is it about the darkness that people fear? Is it the fact that they can not see? Fear of the unknown that might lurk beyond that which people know. If so if one knows that which lies in the dark will they cease to fear it? Can any one person know all that the darkness holds? Most likely again the answer will be no, so it's unlikely man will ever conquer the realm of darkness like they have the realm of light. Sadly man can escape the realm of dark any more than they can conquer it, man can however hold the darkness at bay with tools gifted to them by the gods, namely, fire.

Thus does are story start. In a dark place where there is no end nor beginning, the only true consistency that exists is the darkness itself that writhes upon itself roiling like a great ocean or multitude of snakes all squirming about themselves. The thought that this darkness is sentient is not one that might be wrong. In this void there is a single light. A small flickering candle that sputters valiantly against the invisible nemesis. Beside this candle basking in it's solemn glow is a small shape, a child, back curled against the darkness. The child waits grimly for one of two options that may come, the dawn that will banish the darkness, or the candle to lose it's arduous battle against the dark. Her eyes watch the dancing spark blankly, the only sign of life being the light lifting of a chest whose lungs labor to sustain one who would sleep.

The darkness watches complacent to wait, the fact that the candle will eventually fade from existence is a given the only factor being time. thus does it roil about the bubble of light like living smoke waiting to choke the life from those it consumes.

[Logan Storm]

Darkness... That was all Logan saw. When he turned his head, when his eyes went up and his eyes went down. There was nothing that Logan could see beyond the realm of where he stood. It saddened him, and he did not sadden easily. Isolation and darkness was something no man wanted, and if they did then they would soon grow to loath it and search for sentient contact. But Logan couldn't search because he did not know where to begin. He only knew the darkness around him, and that that darkness was slowly ripping at his flesh. Soon, he would be nothing.

But he needed to walk... So he did. One step at a time Logan moved forward, following only the path in front of him. He moved forward and hoped that he would meet an end, somewhere that would mark a position where he could finally have a starting point. However, the more he walked, the more he found nothing.

The darkness had taken away all his skin now, and all he had left were his bones. Logan knew that it should be painful to walk on his feet, but he felt little harm. He just continued walking and walking....

And walking, until he saw a light. There was a light! Logan could see it from very far away, dancing among the darkness and illuminating a wide circle of warmth. He began to run, moving so fast that not even the quickest of creatures could match him. His bones were beginning to erode away faster. The darkness had a hold on him and it was trying to keep him. It did not want him to embrace the tiny light's blazing hug. Logan defied it,though. He refused to allow the darkness to have him, so he forced himself to run faster until he could see the candle, and near it the girl.

A girl? Logan paused. His right arm was completely gone, and now the fingers from his left were starting to crumble into dust. The girl's back was to him, so she could not see the figure of a corroding skeleton. He almost didn't reach for her, for he feared the type of trauma his appearance would give her. But he needed her help. If she didn't help him then Logan would disappear... Forever.

He reached out to touch her with his left arm, hoping that she would do something to keep him alive. As his skeletal arms moved into the light, Logan suddenly discovered that he had a hand and skin again. He was surprised, happy, and fearful at the same time. His mind was spiraling with confusion, and he was beginning to ask himself more questions than he could solve. He stepped into the light more and found that he had a full and healthy body again, as well as clothing to cover himself. Logan was his same handsome self, and he felt a strong sense of euphoria because of it.

He looked towards the girl again, watching as she only stared at the light. His hands continued to her, and then he gently held her shoulders. "What are you doing, little one?" Logan softly asked, not meaning to scare her in any way. He walked next to her and knelt to her level, making sure that they both could see eye to eye. "Who are you? And where are we?"

[Aderyn Castillon]

Sleep. Sleep was a commonality made rare in the man's life. In his youth, he would enjoy the soft touch of a hand upon his head, and blue, deep blue eyes watching him closely, acting as a guardian against all manner of corporeal evils. With her there, nothing truly frightened him. He could brave any foe, any obstacle, any challenge set to inhibit or harm him, all while keeping her in his mind. She was an angel, a beacon of light in that incorporeal, unending blackness that existed in the realm of the subconscious. Yet, as the years trudged on, and the man grew older, he lost faith in the protection she gave, thinking it worthless and incapable of doing anything, let alone protecting him when asleep. As a result of his loss of innocence, the shapeless, sentient realm sensed weakness, fragility...fear.

The fear grew steadily with each passing day, with the man clinging desperately to some semblance of safety, some aspect of protection to act as a bastion against the menace that was everlasting, unchanging, invincible. His efforts fluctuated between success and failure, with it all coming back to the woman who originally embodied that quality of love and joy that had kept him going. It served as an anchor, a reminder that there was always someone to turn to when terrified or lonesome. For a time, his fear of loneliness and of that nameless, faceless evil was abated, allowing him to pass into that realm safe in the knowledge that she was there.

Yet, as it is said, happiness and tranquility are fleeting. For the man it proved to be true. For, as he grew into adulthood and became wiser and more knowledgeable, the world he'd known was relinquished from his grasp, leaving him nothing but material possessions and memories of times gone by. That anchor, that bastion against evil, that quality of goodness and joy, was silenced unknowingly. Thus, he lost that which he held most dear, causing that primal fear, the fear of the unknown, to resurface. Every night since, he either stared silently into the inky blackness of his decaying domicile or he screamed in agony at being tormented and assailed by countless beings seeking to make him suffer for suffering's sake. Tonight was no different. All around him, there existed intangible abominations, each swirling up, around, and even through him. They ripped at his flesh, tore at his vestments, and uttered loud, horrid shrieks and moans, never once giving him any peace. No matter where he ran, no matter how many times he ripped them in twain, more would always crawl and slink their way from that void to deprive him of his sanity. However, in the distance could be seen a white dot, almost unnoticeable against the writhing mass of beings swarming around him. Taking it as a sign, a glimmer of hope in the darkness, Aderyn pressed onwards, through body upon body, mass upon mass of sentient darkness, clawing through them towards the faint signal. The creatures tore at his body, ripping and tearing into him. Blood poured down his arms and legs, his body felt faint, yet he kept running. Headway was made; the tides turned, till at last he could see the source of such brilliant light. A small candle glowed in the blackness, revealing two other individuals. It seemed they too were trapped in this hell, most likely in the same way as he. He ran the rest o the way towards it, narrowly missing being struck by another mob of amorphous creatures.

As he stepped within the rays of the candle's light, he turned back, seeing that the creatures were repelled by the warm glow that was provided. Yet, they stayed just out of the candle's reach, biding their time, waiting. Catching his breath, Aderyn turned towards the light, eyeing the other dreamers that had somehow found their way here. One was a man of a more youthful, tender age than he, and of a more dashing appearance. The other was a little girl, of no more than ten years of age, or so he could guess. Checking his overall state, he was surprised to see the wounds inflicted by those foul creatures were healing. Smiling, he stood a number of paces back from his fellow prisoners, so as not to disturb them.

[Tanell]

She felt as though she had just closed her eyes, yet already they opened. The entire rest over before she had even begun to feel rested. Yet, what was it that had woken her? It was still early, or perhaps some would call it late, for the shadows of night writhed around her, obscuring her cottage with their grasp.

Not that it mattered, she didn't need to see to move around her own home, it was mostly bare, the floor plan open and easily maneuvered. She rolled out of her bed, combing through her hair with her fingers, unwilling to pull the comb from her chest at the moment.

She glanced about once more, there was something in the air, the oppressive weight of fear dragged against her, and once she became aware of it, more came to her as well. It was too dark, this was Zintila's city, alight with stars and calias plants and Leth should be growing in the night sky, returning from his escapades with the sun goddess.

Instead inky black picked at the foundations seeping into the air and covering the night sky. Chill wind bit at her, her thin night dress whipping around her legs, pulling her in the direction the wind blew. She shouldn't leave, her home was safe, but somehow she knew that if she left that would change.

It didn't matter, the wind grew stronger, howling in anger at her defiance, shoving her forward, out into the night. This wasn't the night of her city, nor her home in Mura, the dark was alive, textured with reaching, grasping hands that dragged her onward in the journey she had never meant to begin.

Skeletal fingers grasped at her pulling her hair, her dress, leaving chilled echoes of their touch in their wake. Her breathing rushed, picking up as terror raced down her spine. She could taste the velvety night, and it slid down her throat, smooth like silk but invasive in ways she couldn't explain. Her stomach rebelled, fighting back against the invasion, but to no avail, the coughing choking of the Konti woman producing nothing but tears in her eyes and pain in her chest.

There was a landscape, hidden in the dance of the shadows, or so she discovered as her fit found her draped across a stone, a damsel in distress out of the stories one read to children. She shoved herself up off the rock, anger warming the pit of her stomach, granting her temporary freedom, even as the fingers of darkness continued to pull at her, calling her name, beseeching her to come back, to lay back in their company. They were all velvet and silk now, sliding across her skin, tempting her with their wiles, fingers dancing the ebony walk across her skin.

It was wrong, all wrong. Where was the goddess, the god, who ruled the night? The gentle glow that was the promise of their domain? The temptress was dark, all encompassing, a smooth port, and still she refused.

The wind that had gone away returned, angry with her refusal, dragging, pulling, wrapping her dress about her feet. It was too late now, the first pinprick of light blooming in the sky, that was her goal, her promise. She battled the godforsaken blackness, the shelter of the goddess was near, she could see the star, the promise of the gossamer curtain of light that made up the night sky.

The dark abated, forced back by the light, twinkling, flickering, dancing unabashed in the tangible night. She could see more clearly, now even her own skin becoming visible against the touch of the light. Figures, not the skeletal hands of darkness, but people, real people stood in the glow of the star, the glow of the goddess.

It was not to be, and when she realized her mistake she groaned, the sound of pain erupting in a word that was the first real sound she had heard, the others conjured by the sentient creature that blackened the entire sky, the entire world. All but this spot, the candle flare that had tricked her with it's glow.

"No." It wrenched from her lips, the velvet blanket of the night twisting the sound, but not enough to stop it, the curtain pushed back by the light, by the presence of other warm bodies. "No..." The agonized sound repeated, choking her, drowning her as she fought her way into the temporary shelter. She fell to her knees, safe in the halo of light that reflected against her pale skin. Safe, but betrayed, misled, her will weakened by the darkness and the false hope that shattered with each flicker and twist of the candles flame.

[Rayala]

Rayala was used to the dark, it was something that provided more comfort to her than the sunlight. The light was something that showed all the flaws of a person, but the dark hid them. Unless you knew where to look. The dark was a comfort to her, but the dark she found herself in was...different. It took her a moment to realize she wasn't where she thought she should be; the absence of Mithan speaking as much. She had fallen onto her bed and only barely managed to pull off her boots and corset, so she had expected to wake up to light. But it was dark here. Kenash...it didn't make sense for that place to be dark. Then she started to feel hands clawing at her, pulling at her legs and arms, whispering her name in her ear. Whispering his name to her, blaming her. She barely noticed the pain in her legs and arms at that name, a pain in her heart she almost wanted to attribute to the Lacun mark instead of her own emotions. The woman shook her head unwillingly and started to move, trying to get away from the clawing against her legs and arms, trying to pull her back, hold her in place. Whatever this was, she wouldn't stop and give in to that. Yet she could feel something digging into her legs, through her pants, more in her arms. Even the scar across her stomach and, again, the mark over her heart felt as if they wanted to rip her open. There was pain, so much pain and fear. She didn't scare easily, no. And this was the dark, why should she be fearful? The darkness...the goddess... Had she been abandoned to the dark for some unknown crime? Had she been left behind and alone? Mithan wasn't here, the one goddess she really cared about clearly not - if she was, there would be no fear of the dark logically -, and Markus was long since gone. Alone. Left to...those creatures of the dark... She whipped around, trying to catch any of them in her sight but all she saw were shapes that constantly shifted, nothing concrete. Human, animal, or something in between, she couldn't tell. She could barely move from the hiding monsters. It felt as if she were wading through thick mud that pulled stronger the harder she struggled. "What are you?," she shouted, trying to hide the fear in her eyes, in her rapidly beating heart, but failing. Why was she so afraid? A light. A small, flickering light, but a light. Something that was different in the dark, empty space. Hope. Raya didn't stop as she saw the light, instead she kept pulling her legs out of the murky darkness onwards. Even though she felt warm something dripping down her body, probably unseen blood unless the monsters were spitting, she kept moving, trying to get to the light where she could make out other figures. One was small, the other three were bigger and all different sizes. Faintly she could hear voices coming from there, voices that weren't the whispers. As she noticed the voices, the whispers seemed to try and grow louder to block out that hope. Those figures weren't dangerous. her heart lept for a brief moment, something she would be surprised about if she thought of it later. She never relied on anyone, but in this dark, she would. Once she was the ring of light, she dropped to her knees, breathing heavy and quickly checking herself over. No marks were on her skin, nothing other than the scar she had for over a season now. She leaned her head back, letting out a relieved breath. Rayala let herself look at the people closer, her muscles relaxing slightly more as they looked normal. At least, they weren't shapeless darkness trying to pull her under. She glanced back to where the candle's light didn't reach, moving further away from it as she could. She looked to the flame then, quickly covering her mouth as to not accidentally blow it out then to the others, a questioning look in her eyes though tinged with a hint of fear yet. She could only feel but so relaxed in the company of strangers, and right now she was wishing her snake would appear. Even if he was lazy and non-venomous, he could still be comforting.

[Kry]

Like moth's drawn to flame the strangers gather, none knowing the next any more than they know the place in which they find themselves; five lost souls gone astray in the mighty world only known to the mind's clouded eye. The flame had drawn them all, though the conventions of their arrival differed between them all; after all the dark likes to torment individuals, individually. Continuing to coil around the wanderers the darkness passively waited for it's chance to consume the light and those it sheltered emitting an almost smug aura over the fact that it's siege was one of complete isolation and it's success all but written.

The girl that basked in the light neither moved nor reacted as the strangers came one by one into her world. Her world or at least that's what it was to her, a sphere of light that was her's, everything outside of her little sphere being darkness that neither warranted exploration or entailed reward, the chances that the darkness held "nothing" but more darkness to high. Though perhaps the arrival of strangers spoke of more existing in the darkness, though it could just as easily be a ploy of the darkness to further demonstrate it's victory; no this was likely not the truth, Kry did have some modicum of faith in the sanctity of her little light, it wouldn't betray her to the darkness so easily; would it?

The first stranger to reach Kry came from behind his pace panicked and desperate. Kry could hear the approach but did not deign to react, after all her light was much more important than anything else that could be happening. That said the first stranger made it into her light, an invader in the only place Kry could call hers; not that Kry was perturbed any more than annoyed, her will was already broken by the relentless assault of the abyss, though what the man did next did provoke some reaction from her. Crouching in front of Kry and placing a hand on her the man moved in front of Kry breaking her eye contact with the light, and casting shadow on her in the process.

Eye's focusing again on the new subject a small frown appearing on the child's face being the only sign of emotion, it was one thing to come into someone else's room, to cast shadow over their lights, another.

"What are you doing, little one?"

"waiting"

"Who are you?"

"me"

"And where are we?"

Three odd questions with three obvious answers. Did the man think that the answers to his questions would come so easily to him, The answers weren't so clear to Kry either, but Kry's answers perhaps bellied her mild irritation to the intrusion upon her somber fortress.

Others came into the light to, all as panicked and confused as the one prior, it seemed that Kry was the only one who had accepted the fate that was darkness. After all it was likely that any alternative was non-existent. Or that there was any point in looking for one.

[Logan Storm]

"Waiting," was all she said. "Me," was all she gave. This little girl was more ambiguous than the whores Logan would meet on a city street in Sunberth. She also seemed less obliged to answer his questions, so he left her alone, moved away from her to sit in his own corner in the orange light.

Soon there were more who joined the two. A tall man was the very first to show. He had a rather impressive beard and well groomed hair, which gave him a much better image than Logan's goatee and messy head. He carried himself properly and was authoritative in appearance. A rich man, Logan thought. Probably not use to physical action. At least he will be beneficial when it comes to thinking.

The second to come was a young girl, possibly the same age as Logan, if not younger. She had pure blond hair that curled nearly to her hip. Her eyes were a shade of blue and a shade of green, both colors putting on a beautiful display. He would have almost not notice the scales on her cheek and neck if it were not for the candles light on her pale skin. A fish woman? Logan looked upon her with curiosity. I believe they are called konti, a race of women that I have yet to lay with. She fell to her knees as though she was sick, and Logan nearly ran over to comfort her.

However, when the third and final person ran into the light, he stayed seated where he was, suddenly realizing that this tiny circle was beginning to get even tinier. This last one was another female, one with light brown hair and dirty green eyes. She looked well built, almost like she was born to fight or run. When she joined the group she, two, fell to her knees. The darkness sure knows how to conjure up women.

Logan stayed sat, cross legged next to the little girl, staring at everyone who showed themselves. They seemed just as confused and vexed as Logan was, so he figured that it was up to him to fill them in as much as he could.

"The name is Logan Storm," Logan said loud enough for everyone to hear. The candle shook at the booming of his voice. "This is Me," He pointed to the girl, wondering if she would correct him and tell everyone her real name now that there were so many people among her. "State your name and tell me what you know. Not of your history or your knowledge, but of this place. I'll start by telling you that I know nothing, only that I fell asleep and woke up in a darkness of death."

[Tanell]

She surveyed the appearances of the others, one seeming to vanish into the darkness even as she watched. What kind of godless place was this? Not Lhavit, surely, for there was always light in the diamond city.

The light was crowded now, cast with shadows that seemed to dance in tandem with the darkness that threatened to envelop another of their party at a moment's notice. The flicker of the flame seemed weak, nearly smothered by the encroaching blackness, and she scrambled closer to it, the bitter taste of fear and the velvet remains of the skeletal touch in the night turning her stomach once more.

She could feel it still, the all encompassing touch of the night across her body, touching her in ways not even a lover had. It haunted her still, memories and echoes brushing across her skin each time the flame dimmed in the gusts of wind created by the howling monsters that circled them.

Monsters, she knew by the feel of the fingers that still brushed her skin, because it took a monster to touch a person when she did not wish it. She curled her knees to her chest, hugging them close, to ward off a chill that had nothing to do with the cold.

The child spoke first, the answers to questions that she had not heard. Bitter and rude, the girl seemed not to seek the comfort of sound, of words, of other people, and Tanell almost would have agreed if not for the voice of the man, crossing the space in a cadence that was soothing only because she could actually hear it.

"I am called Tanell," She began when no one else spoke up right away, her own voice meek in comparison to the boom of his own for she could muster no more than the gentle panting breaths that threatened to turn to tears if she could not get a handle on herself. "I don't know much, I awoke in my bed at home in Lhavit, but something was wrong, dark ruled the sky when Leth and Zintila should have ruled the evening, instead invasive monsters formed of shadow," Her voice cut off, dropping into silence as the recollection brought the phantom fingers back across her skin catching her breath in her throat.

'Lay with us,' the pull of the whisper was weaker in the light, but still it plucked at her will, calling her back into the dark that was not night, 'Tanell, darling, delicate flower,' they continued to call, seductive whispers that beseech her to return to them.

"I can hear them still," She admitted, "Calling, begging for me to return. I, I don't think we're safe here."

She couldn't chase away the feeling of the fingers and hands, nor the whispers in her ear, gooseflesh marked her skin still and she was chilled to the bone, the little candle offering only false warmth to the party of survivors. How could false flame keep such monsters at bay? How could anyone fight the seductive touch of a night darker than death's final sleep?

[Rayala]

Rayala looked around at the small group, not letting any of them out of her sight. She had no idea what was going on and hadn't arrived soon enough to catch the man's questions tot he girl, barely even hearing her answer. While she stayed tense, she shifted so that she was in a crouched position, ready to spring up if necessary. While one hand rested on the ground, her left one reached for her sleeve. Her lips formed a thin line when she didn't find anything there, having mostly expected her ribbon dagger to be there, the ribbons wrapped around her arm. But there was nothing there. She didn't make a habit of sleeping with a dagger on her. Under her pillow maybe, but not expressly on her. If anything, she felt irritation at her own fear. What was there to be afraid of after all? Unseen things trying to pull her down into dark depths, telling her something she already knew? She already told her own self that every day. The fear was useless and just something that served...well, it didn't serve anything. When the man introduced himself, she took another moment to study his face, her eyes quickly tracing over his features before to the girl as she was introduced as 'Me'. Just as she had looked over Logan's face, to be sure to match his name with his face, she looked over the girl's. 'Me' seemed solely interested in the flame, disregarding the rest. Logan, on the other hand, seemed more interested in the others, his next words conveying as much. Though it wasn't much of a comfort that he didn't have any idea of how he got there either. She frowned briefly as the second man disappeared into the dark himself, causing her to tense even more. Raya's gaze went to the other woman as she spoke, tilting her head so that it rested on her shoulder as she studied her face and listened. A slight sigh escaped her at the meekness in the woman's voice. Shyness and gentleness probably wasn't going to be much help right now. Even so, she raised a brow at Tanell's words on Leth and Zintila, though bit back her words on that. Discussing the minor things about gods and goddesses wasn't useful now either, as much as she may have wanted to mention Akajia even if only a vague way. As the two finished speaking, she gave a crooked smile to the three before speaking herself. "Rayala. And same as you both; went to bed, woke up in endless darkness. Either we've all been nabbed from our beds or one of us is hallucinating the others," she shrugged at that, looking to Tanell at her next words. "'Course we're not safe, but so long as the candle stays lit...we're...not dead," she offered, though frowned at the realization that probably wasn't helping. She turned her attention to the little flame then, worrying her bottom lip. This had to mean something. "Flame...light...dark...calling...death...." she muttered under her breath, her brows creased together as she thought.