Deeper into the depths of the earth, they pressed on, intruding upon whatever held sway within this domain. Tightly, she navigated through another rocky obstacle, mindful not to snag her belt's pouches again. With a delicate leap, she descended, her hand finding rest upon his arms once more as she lowered her feet to the floor.
Almost immediately, a horrible truth confronted her. The creature was certain of its imprisonment, not its path or purpose, but its cage. Her façade cracked instantly, and she pressed her hand to her chest as if struck. A heavy sensation settled in her mind, thousands of years of torment frozen in place, the creature's time catching up to her present moment.
Syn extended his force technique, relieving the sensation from her mind, yet she seethed with her anger. Angry to be deceived like this, lured with promises of certainty only to find another lie. Again.
"Your torments are not our doing," she snapped harshly, struggling to maintain her composure.
They arrived at the wound in her psyche. Promised something she craved, only to have it snatched away forever.
"You will lose this if it's not done this way at this time," she recited from her memory like a broken clock. Matching the creature's display, her hands glowed, her eyes an orange hue; fleeting flames danced near her palms, each shifting and changing, defying any clock to keep their pattern.
She fully understood what that freedom meant; they were unpredictable and ever-changing, the creature and she were both drawn to use fire.
Above the creature's fire, she moved her hands in a circle, the heat threatening to blister and burn.
"Stuck in your pit of suffering and solace, your loathing for the world grows, and your certainty others hate you. You feel certain you are broken and cast away, and that becomes your reality." Her palms continued to glow with cleansing fires.
"There is power in that, I understand it; I crave that simplicity you have, to know for certain your path, but also understand it brings such suffering."
The fire continued to draw toward her hand; she was slowly parting the closet flames before her or seeking control, wrestling for certainty outside herself once more.
This wasn't about the outside; it was just a canvas they all used to show themselves who they were.
The more she had control of what was happening, seeking certain control over events, the more the creature had a way in, a grip over her.
Syn