Eyes Upon the Red Sands [Primeval | Silver Sanctum]

[Boethiah]

With a firm nod, Boethiah heeded Mother's words -- following in the footsteps of him. Her eyesight bobbed up and down along the rocky terrain, their movements finally finding smooth ground as the path settled into a long stride forward. "What carved this valley?" She asked no one in particular. The formerly distant academy was now a giant pyramid in her sights, yet her curiosity still lingered on the valley itself.

Despite where her mind wandered, the temple below the one they saw still called out to the young witch. Whispering not words, but seeping power. Leaving just enough for her to taste but not enough for her to sate. Distractions, mostly, but distractions which she could not ignore. She looked back to [member="Loxa Visl"], to see if she was with them, then forward to [member="Orkamaat"]; her silent gaze asking for approval. Approval to enter the doors sat just a few meters off from where they stood.

Her heart raced, and droplets of sweat rolled down her forehead, free falling to the sands below.

 

[Orkamaat]

“A river,” he answered, matter-of-factly. The answer was a bit more complicated than that, of course, but [member="Boethiah"] hardly required any more distractions. The girl was already being split asunder by vast knowledge that no child her age should possess, not to mention that there were slivers of ancient and powerful beings vying for her ear her every waking moment.

Even in her sleep, the Child-prophet dreamed vividly and wildly, glimpses and images and memories alike all blurring into one. Visions, snippets of past and future and alternate realities.

Quite taxing, certainly.

Then he stopped, abruptly, for they had arrived. He glanced behind him to check how far his two companions were, unsure here where his eyes were deaf and his ears blind. The Priest rested a thin, corpse-tinted palm against the warm red rock, impressing upon it a glyph that even his daughter would be hard-pressed to decipher. One day, perhaps, he would teach her, but it was not this day.

“Go on,” he urged her softly, moving aside to grant her passage.

Beyond the mouth of the strait, the cool violet shadow cut off in a jagged line where sunlight spilled over the lip of the cliffs above, breathing new life into the blooded sand paving the path to the temple.

The red river ran reborn, and the dread sigil m̷̧̖̞͎ò̷̼̺̰r̺̱̯͎͖̦͎̺̹͡-̡̖̳̟̦̀ń̲̺͖ę̖͠n̴̹̺̦̼̥̕-͈̠͔̦͖̠̬ş͈̙̖e͟͏̵̝͓̮̺̼̗̮̰l͏͉̞͕̬̞̣͈͜ burned bright as the first steps were taken.


[member="Loxa Visl"]