Mephisto
dusk court spy
dusk court spy
S
he shivers from the effort of the vision, her eyes clearing and finding his – finding balance. For a moment, she cannot speak, just quake with uneasiness… and slowly she finds her footing once more. What did you see? he asks, and a chill washes over her. “I saw us… but through the eyes of something hungry. Something which waits for us, just beyond the city gates. It watches…” And though she cannot be certain what it was, Mephisto knew that they shouldn’t wait to find out. For when the magic was hungry, the only thing to satiate it was blood. And neither of them were going to bleed for Tempus today.They race toward the castle, and in the corner of her eye, Mephisto catches a glimpse of the deer… or at least she thinks it is, but when the deer stares back at her, its face morphs into the face of a predator, one with a smiling growl and razor teeth. She blinks, and the vision is gone once more, a mere ripple in the fabric of the illusion in its place.
Did you ever see anything like this in the Riftlands? She focuses on Asterion's voice, finding it an anchor as they approach the iron gates of the castle, breaching its drawbridge without flicking a glance behind them. It wasn’t safe… she knew it wasn’t safe. But it was safer than the open, and the eyes which watched them hungrily, the voice which whispered in her mind. Blood. Hunt. Life.
“Yes.” Her whisper is almost inaudible, as she reaches to toy with a vial which bobbed against her breast with every ragged breath. Inside, a shimmer of stardust seems to swirl suspended in a silvered liquid. She’d carried the serum for what seemed like a lifetime now, from one world to the next, never knowing what power it might hold. “There was a plague which took over the Riftlands, turning friends into monsters… and no one could seem to find the source. It was a tainted strain of magic, one which we were beginning to parse from the noise… but then…”
Then, their world had been torn apart, swallowed whole by the magic.
She swallows hard, staring ahead unblinkingly as she steps into the darkened halls. Around them, the wind seemed to howl past, weaving through the rocky corridors and extinguishing the light of torches which once glittered with light. There was no other sound in this haunted place, aside from the muffled fall of their feet upon the flagstone. And as they walked, they passed wide open doors which led to rooms of riches and intrigue.
Mephisto barely flicked a glance at the room with jewels and gold from floor to ceiling, shimmering in a halo of gilded light. Still too, she walked beyond a hall of mirrors flanked by guardian suits of armor which seemed empty, but turned to watch them as they passed. Together, they weaved through a labyrinth of stone which opened into a throne room – one with a golden statue of Tempus at the helm.
She does not bow to the foreign god, nor does she shy away from it. Instead, Mephisto simply wanders toward the idol, stopping only once she reaches a shimmering pool, with crystalline water which seemed as clear as glass. Though the surface is molten silver, it does not give any reflection… and as the two stand before it, the mysterious liquid creeps along the floor toward them, as if drawn to their lifeblood. Involuntarily, Mephisto takes a step back with half a mind to turn and leave this place, even as the door swings closed behind them with a deafening roar, locking them into the room.
Mepisto | "speaks" | @Asterion
