EVELYN Child Of Corenglaw Daylight was as invigorating as the early rising sun on a winter morning - fresh, thrilling - a wave of goosebumps caused the pale skin to curl into its shell as hesitation composed against the treading footfalls of a dimly lit pathway. Towering trees, lush by the moisture of shade yet consumed by the warmth of upper light, the forest was unscathed through its evident age - a single finger tracing spanned out branches that scarcely impeded the cobblestone path. The booted feet fumbled carefully against the unstable steps - arrays of sweat tumbling from her fore-head, hood unusually left down, as the path to the peak of her location lastly advanced near. This is it.. the last place I haven't checked. a consistent cycle of travel, the home of Fiore was her concluding halt. Aeons of endeavour through exposing a way of home all but left in the grasp of a single piece of land - embraced by the various undiscovered mysterious by its peculiar split structure. The semblance of unease was prodding at her like a bickering child, an opening exposed by a precise trail - Midi styled shrine perceived up ahead. "This feeling.. its from.. Nayug!" pools of utter beauty convulsed in a waver of elation, stature quickening as the footfalls parrelled out along the radius, nearing toward the shrine in mer seconds by the surge of darkened lightening. A snap that splintered through the whole of the island, optics clashing against the gleam of a crystal that inclined flawlessly upward as if floating by itself. "Is this my way home?" a query, flooding with restlessness - her hands were itching to embrace the item within her hold - nose twitching against the familiar smell of the woods and the aura that belched from the very Earth of her home. The stone glowed an alluring colour of violet, yet its ending flickered into a brief red that just barely catch her heed for its unknown power. But, something was off. She gathered facts like a pile of leaves in the season of Fall, comprehending that there was no way the researchers of the island would disembark something of such power in a place where somebody could so effortlessly grab it. The crown of ivory steered left and right, glancing from above and below, everywhere her senses accumulated to the wood-land that coiled around the opening - landing onto the crystal again. "A setup..." her voice hushed mutedly to her own reality, the crawling sensation of another presence coming into proximity as the upper half strained to the other approaching - no moving in the slightest. The stranger's magical influence was utterly powerful, its fluctuating identification casting a belitting feeling upon her own-self as the figure came closer and closer. Yet, she did not move an inch. If somebody else had also descended into the trap, it was either this one, or the responsible. |
Last edited by Godfray on 6th August 2015, 2:19 pm; edited 1 time in total