Consequence To A Death

# Consequence To A Death {%hackmd @ZeWaka/dark-theme %} {%hackmd z-6kgRjMReiU-UOwlyZa9w %} ## I Alden rests, eyes closed, floating in a deep chamber of his aquatic home. The day, even with his recent coma, had been exhausting, and now he just wanted peace. Not sleep, not yet; just peace. As he stays still in the pitch-dark chamber, the low mental *buzz* of the eye stays always present in his mind, never letting him feel true peace and silence as long as it's worn. Ignoring it, he lets himself drift on. His thoughts drift as well, remembering the days of old. The days of the landing, of when the proud colony of Justyce was at all together. He remembers Leah Wolfenstran, the demon, a fountain of ancient knowledge, now silenced forever. He remembers Lark, a smart priest of Alden's cloth, a potential friend, now gone. He remembers Avery Winfred, the steadfast knight, now suffering a fate worse than death. And he finally remembers Alexander Cirillo, the studious elf, now murdered, driven insane by artifacts beyond anyone's understanding. Cirillo. Cirillo. That name keeps floating through the priest's head. He knew that Cirillo would never give him rest, even from beyond the grave. Too much had happened to forget so quickly. Such a man, to be so *angry* with the gods, with others, with everything. As he continues to float through the normally-icy water, the *buzz* of the eye is no less present than before. Annoyed, Alden opens his own eyes, finding the cord of the now green eye, and starts to pull it off... ## II Alden jerks their body, eyes shooting open. He looks around quickly, finding himself in the very same dark, water-filled room as before. Looking down, he can make out the green, coral embedded orb still resting around his neck. His right hand moves to it, gripping it tightly. What just happened washes over him, that eye retaliating for its attempted removal. The priest breathes a shaky breath, trying to steady themselves. Letting go of the eye, he presumes the new attachment that eye's gained is due to exactly what caused it to become green in the first place. Knowing he would get no more peace in this room today, Alden swims towards no particular corner of the entirely pitch-black room. Feeling the smooth, dark wall, he pulls out his book, casting a spell that opens a nearby section of wall. Drifting out the newly opened door, his eyes adjust to the bright lanterns of his prismarine home. Turning around, they press their hand to an embedded piece of copper, the door closing as magic courses into it from Alden's hand. He pushes off the wall, floating into the center of the primary chamber. Intricate carvings and graceful bronze decorations line the walls, all on top of a tough prismarine wall. A dozen meters up, he can hear the low, thumping heartbeat of the ocean, channeled through the conduit he constructed months ago. He sighs, floating up towards the door. ## III The heirophant swims for a while. Even with his magically-augmented swimming speed, distance is more than just a number. Sticking his head out of the water, Alden can see the massively tall spires of stone jutting out of the water, reaching hundreds of meters in the air. Pulling out his spell book, he casts a spell, launching him out of the water with alarming speed. As he cuts through the salty sea air, he can already feel himself weakening, his bones becoming tired from the exertion of not being in the water. Finding the u-shaped structure he was looking for, Alden flings himself further in the air, nearly reaching the clouds before they begin to fall. Coming to a gentle, floating stop, he lands feet-first on the tender grass beneath him. He breathes in the air, before sitting down on the green flora. Why he comes out here... he realizes he doesn't quite know. Alden preferred the sea, and there's nothing up here that he can't find down there, but... he finds himself drawn up here occasionally for one reason or another. Another way of finding peace, he supposes. He admits that he's been telling himself that in so many different locations. First, his original wooden study. Then, the endless, cold, shifting halls of the bunker. After, the prismarine temple. And now, hundreds of meters up on a rocky, bent pillar. Looking far down at the water below and far beyond, he reflects. Reflects on the fact that he *died*, at least, according to Stahl. Died killing Cirillo, only saved by dumb luck that someone found him in time. One question, left turning over and over in his mind, is one he can scarcely bring himself to think of. "Is that vision broken," he asks, "is it over, can I finally rest that wretched prophecy?" This question would continue to stay in his mind like a tumor as he sat up there, pondering, thinking, wondering. A time passes, and Alden knows he will not get any answers here, questioning *why* he even came. Getting up, he hears the grass press down beneath his boots as he steps towards the edge. Looking down, he sees the water far, far below. Looking up to the sky, they take a step off, letting themself fall to the deep blue water far below.