Island of Adnia 2: Rivers of Deceive

CHAPTER I: DOOMS OF DECEIVE (2)

CHAPTER I: DOOMS OF DECEIVE (2)  

The powerful lightening eyes of the woman opened in a sudden moment. She began to regain her consciousness, compelled amidst the parallel currents of destiny and hopelessness. She was alive. She felt alive, as her soul extrapolates in confusion and wakefulness. The lack of harmony covered her paths of desire, from nightfall´s game again. And in the cold longevity of the desolate road, she found herself upon the shores of a small lake, forefront a gleaming waterfall, which surged and fall in unexplainable ways. Thus, she innocently assumed her body passed through the furrows of the river, and the poisoning of its tales.

She could not believe it, for she was sure a dream recovered her soul from the mysteries of the fine thread of death. Slowly, she began to rise, around the brink of unscrupulous desires. Her legs felt lighter; her body felt numb, and her body was covered in a mild rash denoting her rough, sluggish skin. The woman felt weak; in the absence of royal energy.

She saw the banks of the singular river. A reindeer was next to her, but when she tried to get close to it, he ran away at full speed. She needed support, she needed an effort. The aching blows absorbed the fires of her misgivings. The uncertainty began to run through her body; her nerves were applied. Her strength was weakened, and she fell slowly to her knees, before the silence of the rumbling night, through the echoes of dozens pestilent creatures around her.

She slowly returned to the bank of the lateral river, and between its shores, she laid beneath prominent lies. Tenuous and delirious. She placed her hands on her face, now wet with tears of regret and pain. She noticed these were boiled with inexplicable grief; her feelings expressed sharp symphonies of melancholy through them, and her heart perceived an inordinate vulnerability, never before experienced in such vessel of intensity.

She closed her eyes, and washed her face with the nearby waters of the lake. This was cold, delusional. Lost in desolation and sorrow; she observed her reflection in the lake, and through the light of the moons from the mystical planet, the woman was perplexed by the figure she saw. Her face was not the same. Her eyes had been replaced. Her vivid golden hair ran pink and attenuated red; the waters mythologized the features of her iris, her eyebrows, her lips. Her gestures had diminished, and the figure she tried to comprehend in the silhouette of the evening was the beginning of a new being. The queen of the empire, had been renewed.

The woman jumped backwards; hitting a nearby steep tree. She raised her trembling hands, around the dominance of shadows, and realized they were thinner. The woman felt unrecognizable; different, inside and out, and in a singular maddening night, despair drowned out the woman's fear and freakiness, and a sudden scream emerged from her spirit, as she usurped the silence among the cold windstorms of the delirious night of unreasonable fire, and ancient mystery.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yes, father" exclaims the son. "What the hell is that?"

"It's a Lorn," replies the father. "A mortal, among the currents of these cursed rivers."

"What is an earthling doing here?"

"I'm not sure if it's here, or in the world beyond there." the father responds. “That's why I don't like to come to these fields. I told you these are surrounded by cursed specters!"

"Well, I'm not afraid of any ghost, father"

"Where do you think you are going?"

"I'm going to look for it," replies the son. "It comes from the river’s shore."

"Iram, you are not going anywhere without my permission." exclaims the father. "Didn't you listen to what I just said? Don't play with this!"

"Father, I´m not playing, we need to know what this is. I will just peer out of the heights." exclaims the son. "Among the nearby hills. It is very close to us; we shall not run away. Besides, how are we supposed to defend ourselves if we don't know what it is?

"Then go fool!" answers the father. "Don't say I didn't warn you! I don't know why I agreed coming here!"

"This is what we came for father." the son responds. "It could be her."

"Iram that’s impossible." the father responds. "I already told you tha–Iram wait!"

The son ran in excitement and hope. The true light of his days seemed to reappeared; all due to a heart´s desire to see again the spirit that once held him in her arms. That woman who enabled the doors of his toddler´s soul; one whom glimpsed and arouse the power of love in his mind. The one whom had been taken from his life when he was just a child; unjustly, merciless, by the tarnished hands of the Northern Kingdom, in the great war of the millennial nights. The son, looking for his mother; the one who died due to uncover, defending the colors of beyond.  But one whom represented the icon of strength, within the heart of the man of magic and vicissitude. Underneath the breath of the one chosen among the night and uncertain skies, the one called to seized the great hope of fate.

The heretical fantasy of singular renown, was lost among the mysticism of the nearby hills, and among some waterfalls of the night. He could observe the female te,plance; the elegance of miscue and wonder. Around the shore, was the creature; although his eyes seemed to mistake her for love of the motherland´s prairies, the man recognized in deception, that this was a mere human, and not the figure of perfection he was expecting. Her clothing was dirty and destroyed. Her pink hair seemed to lose a shine, covered with algae and strange leaves. The plasma demigod drifted down the hill, subtly approaching with its dark purple effulgence within the dark forest. Something never suggested by his father.

The woman heard some nearby footsteps; she tried to emanate the golden fire from her precious hand, but only some sparks came materialized. Her powers were lost. She checked one of the pockets of her wet dress, remembering there was her precious object from the royal mistress. And luckily there it was; a small, circular and imposing mirror, the one that her lover had given her for the propulsion of her ancient abilities.

But not even the magic mirror of the kingdom held powers, for it only gave the reflection of a singular moonlight. The woman knew immediately, something terribly strange was happening in her. Without thinking, she quickly forgot about defense, and redeemed her vision into example; discarding the idea of being able to protect herself. She felt the presence of a powerful creature in the bushes, and when she tried to escape from the powers of the night, the figure step itself out. Between one of the nearby passageways around the traitorous forest, as a terrifying sword pointed directly at her neck. The creature emanated violet power from its edges, and the figure with disturbing yellow eyes emerged from darkness. A very young man, with the fissure of a prince of mist and shadows.

"Who you are?" exclaims the man.

The woman was silent and perplexed; stunned without knowing what to say, because she perceived the energy of the threatening and instigating being.

"Who you are?!" the man shouts.

"I am a simple woman." the earthling responds. “It is not my intention to step on foreign lands. I come from the north."

"How did you cross the River of Deceive?" the man asks.

"I–

"Speak mortal!"

The man stepped out of the shadows completely. He wore a black and purple cropped robe. The garments covered him in his powers of beatific energy. An inner armor covered his clothing, and when he looked into the woman's eyes, she immediately recognized who he was.

"Give me your name, quickly!" the man asks.

“Pas–

"Pass?

"-Sithea" continues the woman. "My name is, Pasithea!"