Vilka Pharro
Member

LAH'MU - THE OUTER RIM TERRITORIESA fell wind swept between the black canyons of Lah'mu. A thousand treacherous paths threaded through these cliffs, like cracks along a broken mirror. Vilka heard the crunch of gravel underfoot. She felt, somehow, that they would all lead her to the right place. The force called here in the back of her mind, the ocean in a seashell; it had drawn her here, guided her with its gentle hand deep into the mountains. Into the clouds, the cliff-passes became a skyward labyrinth of shifting fog- whether her faith was misplaced or not, Vilka was left with little choice but to press on, a storm black robes beating against the wind as she braved each step. The force had never betrayed her before, and now, she felt dark things on the horizon.
It had set upon her as she had pulled through orbit, sailing between the great rings of glittering silica that girdled this rocky world; passing through each swirling tempest of stone, she could not help but feel herself being dragged, tooth and nail, to some deeper rung in fate's grand scheme. And now here she was. With narrowed eyes she surveyed the distance from a rocky perch. Descending below the clouds at last, here jagged cliff-points rose and fell from the mist until they became one with the horizon, like great sea monsters upon a silver ocean. Vilka smiled at the thought. In its own way, the wild landscape of the valley had been a battle of titans, one hundred-thousand years in the making- it seemed it was already ended, and there had been no victor- both combatants sloped away in each direction.
When at least she slipped away from the mountain paths, she found herself upon the foggy floor of the valley, treading at the feet of fallen giants. Here she felt the force ring like church-bells, thrumming all throughout the sky and stone and soil, bleeding in and out of the mist- at last things became clear. The cold wind swept past, and she felt her each of her flickering emotions consolidate all at once, swirling in the pit of her stomach, a great metamorphic storm. Her fists tightened.
She was not alone; today, there would be two shadows that walked the valley.
[member="Nixia Amabilia"]