They turned their eyes skyward, lifting their arms up. The man slowly descended from the dais, his unnaturally glowing crimson eyes gaining in brightness till they were nearly white. The moment he reached the center of the symbol, everything reached a crescendo in a bolt of blood-red lightning.
It struck the man, sparking off and sending the other men and women around him flying back. Their bodies, dead, littered the ground. Magic arced through the air like the rebirth of a cosmos, all condensing on a glowing figure slowly rising from where the leader of this dark ritual had once stood.
It was the same man, but changed. He wore the red light as a second skin, seeming to grow in size before Vi’s eyes. She knew she was witnessing true, but Vi couldn’t fashion words or sounds. He turned; Vi could all but feel his sightless white eyes on her. They were like the noru. They were worse than death.
A scream—her scream—broke the trance of the vision.
Vi collapsed back, scrambling away, as though there was something physical she could distance herself from. She pressed her eyes closed, but all she saw were the scattered bodies, and the nightmarish figure emerging from the collection of their sacrificial essence. Vi shook her head, as though she could dispel the images.
She let out another yelp of startled surprise when a hand landed on hers.
Opening her eyes, Vi locked gazes with Taavin. He was there, closer, sharper. His hand was on hers with a warmth that was not quite real—as if he was touching her soul, housed under her skin, more than the skin itself.
“You actually found it… So you’re not totally worthless like most on the Dark Isle.” Suddenly, as if realizing he’d reached for her, his hand lifted and the sensation of the ghostly touch vanished.
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Vi muttered. There was another retort in her mind, but it vanished when his other hand rose, hovering just above her face, as though he was about to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Vi quickly did it herself, and he ignored the motion entirely.
“Are you all right?”
The question was surprisingly sincere. Vi blinked at him, swallowing, and gave a nod. The vision still lingered on her, uncomfortably heavy. Was she all right? Likely not. Her world had been shaking at its foundations for weeks now. But the only option was to press forward. She was in too deep.
“Tell me what you saw.”
“A ritual, men and women with red eyes, a sacrifice, a man made of lightning… I think he saw me.” Vi shook her head, trying to rattle her thoughts back into place, trying to make her words make sense. But there was no sense to be found. The whole thing felt impossible and she felt insane the second she vocalized it. Despite the fact, she tried to recall as much detail as she could for him.
“Elfin’ra.” The man cursed when she’d finished her more detailed recounting, and shook his head.
“What are elfin’ra?”
“Those men and women you saw with red eyes worshipping the evil god Raspian. They should be sealed away, but with the barrier that had been holding Raspian broken…” He cursed softly under his breath again, this time in a language Vi didn’t recognize. As Taavin shook his head, his hair shifted, and Vi noticed something she hadn’t before.
She shifted back involuntary. “You… are you one of them?”
“Do I look like one of them?”
“You have pointed ears like they did.” Sure enough, the pointed tips of his ears extended out from the waves of his hair. How had she never noticed it before? Likely because there were about a thousand things she needed to focus on and she’d only seen him twice… but still…
“But do I have pale skin and red eyes?” Taavin asked dumbly.
“Well, no, but—”
He explained as though she were a child. “I am elfin. They are elfin’ra.”
“And that means nothing to me,” Vi stated, deadpan. She was pleased that, despite his general look of frustration and tedium, a small smile graced his lips at the remark. But it was quickly abandoned.
“The elfin’ra are a splinter of elfin… their worship of Raspian has twisted them, changed their magic, their bodies. For it, they were banished to Salvidia over a thousand years ago.”
“Salvidia…” Vi repeated. Her mind instantly summoned the map Sehra had shown her. “An island, far off to the south?”
“I’m impressed you know that, being on the—”
“Dark Isle. Yes, I get it. I’m very impressive for an uncultured swine,” Vi said hastily, trying to keep them on track. “This ritual they are performing… what is it?”
“To give their god a mortal casing, and bring about the end of the world when he walks among us once more.”
All she had wanted was a little bit of magic, and a little bit of control over it. She had wanted that magic to ensure that she could be reunited with her family without issue. Simple, clean, easy.
Yet, somehow, she was facing a man with glowing green eyes, in the middle of ruins, discussing the end of the world.
